


Maybe This Christmas

by deadto27



Series: Maybe [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Angst, POV Bucky Barnes, Shrunkyclunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-18 17:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadto27/pseuds/deadto27
Summary: Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.-----Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him.Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.





	1. The 15th of December

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a little fic to say thanks for everyone who's read my stucky over the last eight months. I've had the BEST time posting my fics here, so thank you to everyone who's read and commented :) If you haven't before, hi! Happy to have you :D 
> 
> Anyway, this ended up getting longer and longer, so now you get an eight chapter fic. I even have a schedule! (I know, who'd have thought it). So there's eight chapters over eleven days, ending on Christmas Day, of course. I really hope you enjoy :)

_Maybe this Christmas will mean something more_  
_Maybe this year_  
_Love will appear_  
_Deeper than ever before_

* * *

  
Bucky Barnes is not having a good day. To be honest, he hasn’t had a good day in quite a while, but today is turning out especially shitty.

First, he’s late to meet his sister at a café. Like almost thirty minutes late. Second, he’s really not looking forward to seeing her because he knows how mad she’s going to get when he tells her he isn’t going home with her for Christmas. It’s not that he doesn’t want to—well, not entirely—but he managed to pick up all the shifts no one else wanted to do at his work and it means double pay and he both needs the money and needs to keep his job happy. So yeah, it kinda sucks that he’ll be spending Christmas alone in New York, but at least it’ll be peaceful. He knows their parents will be mad, so he really doesn’t need Becca bitching him out about it too.

The main thing ruining his day right now though, is the snow. He remembers liking snow at one time, but right now he’s cursing it, because the wetness from it is seeping into his crappy sneakers that he really needs to replace, and his toes are damp and freezing and he’s just hoping they don’t fall off by the time he gets to the café.

He pulls his scarf up a little over his chin, trying to stay warm as he hurries along the sidewalk.

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. _Oh god_ , Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him. And they’re now lying in a pile on the ground as New Yorkers walk by ignoring them.

“Oh god,” he utters as he realises he’s now just lying on this person, this _guy_ , from the feel of him. Bucky struggles to clamber off the large body he’s lying on top of.

He feels hands at his waist steadying him as he does, and he manages to almost get upright, only to slip again, grabbing onto this poor guy’s thigh as he does. His very muscular thigh.

Bucky manages to get to his feet on the second try and turns to help the guy, holding his right hand out to help pull him up.

“Fuck me, I’m so, so sorry,” Bucky apologises as he does so, finally looking at the guy, and then he hates himself even more, because of course, of fucking course, of all the people to fall on, he has to fall on the one who looks like _that_.

Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more handsome man, and then the guy smiles as he grasps Bucky’s hand and gets to his feet, a lot more elegantly than Bucky managed, and Bucky feels dumbstruck because he’s gone from handsome to blindingly beautiful with that shy smile.

“Don’t worry about it.”

The deep voice that comes out of him...damn, it’s doing things to Bucky. He tries to pull himself together as the guy lets go of his hand. “Are you hurt?” he asks the handsome hero man.

“I’m fine,” the guy smiles easily. “Are you okay?”

His foot is aching a little from where his ankle sort of buckled but he’s otherwise fine. “Yeah, I think you were a pretty good cushion,” Bucky says, a little embarrassed, tugging a little on his scarf.

“Well, uh, happy to help,” the guy replies, adjusting the dark wool hat on his head.

“Aw hell, you’re soaked,” Bucky realises as he sees the contrast of the dampness on the back of the guy’s arm versus the front. He moves slightly and now he can see this poor guy’s light grey coat is completely drenched on the back, along with the bottom of his jeans.

The guy shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s my fault.” Bucky feels terrible. “I’m just a disaster,” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

The guy puts a hand on his shoulder. “You just slipped, it’s not your fault.” He looks so earnestly at Bucky that Bucky believes him.

He glances at the guy’s hand for a moment and then the guy moves it away. “Is there anything I can do?” Bucky asks stupidly. It’s just politeness—there’s nothing he _can_ do to help dry this guy off, not really.

“Not unless you can recommend a café nearby?” the guy says, with a bright smile, apparently not at all bothered by being all wet. “I’ve been trying to find somewhere good for coffee.”

“Uh, yeah actually, I’m meeting my sister at a nice place a few blocks from here,” Bucky offers.

The guy’s eyes brighten. “Mind if I tag along? I mean, just to the place. I won’t sit with you. Obviously…” he trails off, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Sure,” Bucky nods, because it’s the very least he can do. He turns to start walking. “I’m Bucky by the way,” he says, sticking out his right hand as the guy falls into step besides him.

The guy shakes his hand and gives Bucky a curious look as if waiting for something. “Oh, I’m Steve,” he says as he seems to realise Bucky’s waiting for his name.

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky replies with a small smile. “Or you know, nice to lie on you,” his stupid brain blurts, and then he feels his cheeks going red. “I mean, umm…” _Just shut up_ , he tells himself. “Nevermind,” he mumbles. He’s usually good around attractive men, or at least he used to be, why is this one turning him into an idiot?

Steve just looks a little bemused as they walk along. “Nice to meet you too. You from Brooklyn?” he asks out of nowhere.

Bucky glances over. “Indiana originally, but Brooklyn for years. You can tell, huh? Are you?”

Steve nods. “Yep.”

“Shouldn’t you know where the good coffee is then?” Bucky asks with a small grin.

Steve shrugs and looks down at his feet. “I only just moved back. It’s all a lot different than when I grew up here.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Bucky nods. He thinks Steve sounds a little sad about that. “Gotta find some new favourites, huh?”

Steve looks over at him. “I guess so.”

“Well, that can be fun. Tryin’ new things.” He pauses as they reach the café. It’s all industrial looking and a little bit hipster, but the coffee is so good, it’s worth it. “If you have good taste this will become one of them,” he grins as he pushes open the door, and there it is, he’s remembered how to function as a normal human being again.

The little bell on the door rings and Bucky sees his sister sitting in their normal corner, looking up at the noise, a slight scowl on her face. Bucky gives her a sheepish wave and holds up his finger so she knows he’ll be over in a second, as he and Steve walk up to the counter. Bucky sees Steve glancing in Becca’s direction as they do.

Steve gazes up at the chalkboard on the wall as they wait in line. He looks a little overwhelmed. “Any food you’d recommend?” he asks Bucky.

Bucky looks up at the menu. He always orders the same thing, so he never really looks at it. “Depends,” he muses. “You in the mood for something sweet or salty?” he asks, and then feels his cheeks colouring again as he realises there are other inferences to what he just said. Luckily the cold has turned his face red anyway, so maybe Steve doesn’t notice.

Steve looks down, with what might be a smirk, Bucky can’t tell, and then looks at Bucky from under his eyelashes. “I think something sweet,” he says with a soft smile.

Bucky swallows. That…that’s not flirting. I mean, he could kind of interpret it as flirting if it wasn’t coming from Steve, aka the hottest guy in the world, but it is. So it can’t be. Because there’s no way Steve is interested. He’s probably straight. _Stop being a dumbass, Bucky_ , he chastises himself.

“The um, cannoli are good,” he manages to say, pointing them out in the glass cabinet. “And, uh, all the coffee is great. I usually just have it black, but they have, um, syrups and things.” _Syrups and things? How eloquent_ , Bucky groans in his head.

They reach the front of the line and Bucky orders his black coffee and one of their black and white cookies as a peace offering for Becca. Steve orders the cannoli he suggested and his own coffee but asks the barista what “syrups and things” they have, before giving Bucky a teasing smile.

Bucky feels himself getting flustered at that look. This never happens to him. He doesn’t get flustered. Or at least, he never used to. Maybe it’s a new thing to go with the new Bucky. _What a joy to discover that_ , he grimaces in his head.

Steve starts getting out his wallet as they wait for their drinks, but Bucky stops him and insists on paying as an apology for falling on him.

“It’s really okay,” Steve says insistently.

Bucky shrugs. “Yeah, but I want to anyway,” he insists back, giving the barista the money before Steve can argue. “Call it a welcome to the neighbourhood if you prefer.”

“Well, thank you,” Steve says graciously.

The barista sets down Bucky’s drink and cookie in front of him and Bucky lifts the plate to rest it on top of the mug, before lifting them both in his right hand. If Steve notices how weird that is, he doesn’t say anything. Bucky still has his mittens on, and he’s stayed on Steve’s left this whole time, so it’s unlikely Steve’s even noticed anything different.

“Umm, so thanks again for breaking my fall,” Bucky says awkwardly. He feels like any other time he’d invite Steve to join him, but Becca’s there and she’ll probably be yelling at him soon.

“Anytime,” Steve smiles warmly at him.

Bucky’s heart sort of lurches at the smile. “Umm, enjoy. Bye,” Bucky says, feeling stupid and awkward, and then turns to go to his sister, walking over and sitting down at their table.

She gives him a little hug across the table, so she can’t be too mad about his lateness. He did text her to let her know at least anyway. Bucky sees Steve sit at his own little table in the opposite corner of the small café.

“So?” Becca prompts, making him look away from Steve.

“So…?” Bucky frowns.

“Who is that?” Becca says, with a little glance over at Steve.

Bucky glances over again. Steve’s taken off his coat and Bucky’s pleased to see he’s got what looks like a warm sweater on, so hopefully the wet coat hasn’t made him too cold. He tries to not look too hard at the clearly very firm muscles bulging underneath said sweater.

He looks back at Becca. “Just a guy. I slipped and sorta fell on him. Just got him coffee as a sorry.”

Becca raises an eyebrow at him. “You should fall on him again. He’s hot AF.”

Bucky sighs. “Could you please talk like a normal person instead of your post-millennial internet speak?” he grumbles, passing the cookie to her.

“Fine,” Becca says casually, leaning back in her chair. “He’s _hot as fuck_ and you should sit on his face,” she booms, and Bucky swears her voice is reverberating around the whole room. Possibly the whole city.

“Fucking Christ, Becs, shut the fuck up!” he hisses at her, leaning forward, eyes darting around. The people at the next table over definitely heard her, and are giving them judgy eyes, but Steve is looking down at a newspaper he’s found and doesn’t seem to have heard, thank god.

Becca giggles, apparently very amused with herself. “Alright, I’m sorry. But I’m serious,” she nags at him. “You should get out there again.”

“I don’t think so.” Bucky shakes his head and takes a tentative sip of his coffee, rubbing his feet together. He’s only just noticed again that his feet are fucking freezing. Steve had been a good distraction from it.

“Why not?” she pushes.

“You know why not.” Bucky glances down at his left arm unconsciously.

Becca sighs. “Come on, no one cares.”

They’ve had this talk before. She just doesn’t get it. “ _I_ care, alright. Please just leave it,” he implores her. They don’t need another thing to fight about.

“Ugh, fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and slides down her chair in defeat. “Where am I meeting you to go to mom and dad’s then?” she asks, changing the subject.

Bucky scrunches up his face, bracing himself, gripping his coffee mug. “About that…” he starts. “I sorta can’t go.”

Becca glares at him. “What do you mean you can’t go?” She says each word slowly, like she’s deciding exactly how to kill him at the same time.

“I got extra shifts at work, and I really need the money, you know how it is. And it took me so long to even get a job,” he implores her.

“But it’s Christmas!” she explodes.

Bucky tries to shush her. “Please Becs, I’ll call mom and dad and tell them, but can you please just understand. We can do our own little Christmas when you’re back?” he offers.

Becca just keeps glaring at him. “You think I’m stupid? This isn’t about work. You just don’t want to see everyone.”

“Becca, c’mon…” Bucky sighs. She’s right. But it’s both. It’s more. He has lots of reasons. Multiple very good reasons for not going home.

Becca gives up abruptly. “Forget it. You don’t wanna come, then don’t. See if I care.” She stands up, her chair scraping loudly on the concrete floor, and storms off, stopping after a couple of feet and returning only to grab her cookie, before huffing and turning to storm off again.

Bucky sighs, dropping his head into his hand. He could chase after her, but there’s no point. She’ll go off in a rage and cool down and then they’ll talk after. It’s how she always is, after all.

“Hey,” a slightly familiar deep voice says.

Bucky lifts his head to find Steve staring down at him, looking concerned.

“You okay?” he asks tentatively, as though he’s not sure he should be asking.

_Shit. Steve saw all that_. “Yeah, just…family stuff, you know?” Bucky tries to shrug it off.

Steve looks sympathetic. “Want some cannoli?” he offers with a little smile, glancing over at the counter.

Bucky can’t help chuckling a little at that. “Nah, but thanks,” he says, with a little smile of appreciation.

“How about another coffee?” Steve offers, and Bucky thinks it seems like he’s trying to linger for some reason.

Bucky’s not sure if Steve’s just a really good guy, or if maybe, just maybe, he’s actually interested in him, but unfortunately his toes are really feeling like ice now, and he should probably just abandon his crappy day and retreat back to his apartment and turn himself into a human blanket burrito.

He shakes his head, getting up from the table, downing the rest of his coffee, that’s just slightly too hot for that to have been a good idea. He hides a wince as the coffee burns his throat. “Thanks, but I’ve gotta get going.”

He’s feeling sort of torn, because on the one hand, he really doesn’t want to go, but on the other…well, there is no other, because he’s missing an arm, and even if Steve was even a tiny bit interested, Bucky’s pretty sure that interest would go in a second if he knew. It’s better to keep Steve as a surprisingly nice experience, maybe file him away for some fantasy time later, and let that be that. He gives Steve another smile and gets ready to go.

“How about my number?” Steve suddenly says, the words sounding like a desperate blurt.

Bucky lifts his eyes to Steve’s in surprise, to find Steve’s eyes looking wide and hopeful. “Seriously?” Bucky sputters in disbelief. Maybe his radar wasn’t completely off. _Steve’s actually interested?_

Steve looks nervous, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I mean, you don’t have to, only if you want?”

And then Bucky’s brain really does a number on him, because it opens up his stupid mouth and says “sure”. _Sure_. Just all simple, like it’s no big deal. _Sure_. _What the fucking fuck_ , he yells at himself, while standing there like a lemon.

Steve’s face brightens, and he pulls out a little notepad and pencil from his pockets and scrawls a number down, ripping the page out, then he offers the pad out to Bucky. “Could I get yours?” he asks with those hopeful eyes again.

Bucky thinks those eyes could be a problem, because he’s pretty sure Steve could get him to do anything with those eyes. He takes the pencil and lets Steve hold the pad, scribbling his number down before he can stop himself.

Steve gives him a pleased smile that Bucky wants to bask in. No one’s looked at him like that in a while. They switch numbers, and Bucky tucks Steve’s piece of paper into his coat pocket.

“I’ll, um, be in touch then?” Steve says, sounding slightly unsure of himself, but looking happy all the same.

It’s just starting to dawn on Bucky again what he’s done. “Uh, yeah, sounds good,” he manages to say before the crippling fear takes over. “Bye,” he says bluntly, forcing a smile now, before turning and almost fleeing.

God, why is he such a moron? He’d just told Becca he didn’t want to get back out there and then he’s letting an extremely hot man have his phone number? Bucky blames hormones. That’s what it is. Hormones make him dumb. That and Steve’s ridiculously hypnotic eyes.

It doesn’t matter, Bucky tells himself, as he strides down the street, heading home. Steve probably won’t even call. People get numbers all the time and never call. Maybe Steve just likes seeing how many numbers he can get? It’s fine. Bucky doesn’t need to worry about it. He’s sure he won’t hear from Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I want for Christmas is...feedback :) I'd love to hear what you think.
> 
> As always, you can also find me on [tumblr @deadto27](https://deadto27.tumblr.com/). Shout out to tumblrites who have sent me some lovely comments on my other works also!


	2. The 17th of December

Steve calls him two days later. Bucky knows it’s him because for some stupid reason, he programmed Steve’s number into his phone. He just did it so his phonebook looked fuller, that was all. He doesn’t have many numbers in there and he needed to flesh it out a bit. So if anyone ever borrowed his phone they would see, oh yes, that Bucky Barnes, he’s got friends, their phone numbers are right there. Yep, that’s why he put Steve’s number in.

Bucky’s so busy panicking that Steve’s call rings out. He stares at the phone in his hand as it goes silent. No voicemail message appears. Good. That’s good. Bucky can just pretend that never happened. He’s on his break at work anyway, so he figures he couldn’t have really answered. It doesn’t matter that the break room is empty and he’s only just started his break. Nope. It was just too inconvenient to pick up. The phone doesn’t ring again during his break and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief, while at the same time feeling oddly disappointed.

When he’s back home and just about to decide on dinner, his phone beeps with a text message. He’s surprised to see it’s from Steve and his heart leaps.

_Hi Bucky, so I gave you a call, but I don’t know if you got it or knew it was me, but my friend said not to leave voicemails, so I thought I’d text instead? I hope that’s okay? I was hoping we could meet up, for a drink or coffee or something? Though I’m just now realising maybe you got my call but didn’t pick up on purpose and maybe I’m making a fool of myself right now? Oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe just let me know either way about the drink so I don’t have to keep checking my phone? I really hate phones._

Bucky reads the whole thing twice, his heart melting a little with each word. Oh my god, Steve is too cute, spewing his train of thought into a surprisingly well-punctuated message. His phone beeps again in his hand.

_Oh, it’s Steve by the way. You fell on me that time._

_Fuck_. Bucky is done for. He feels his face break into a stupidly delighted smile. Then his sleeve catches his eye and he looks down at his left side, at the missing piece of him. He never wears his prosthetic arm inside, and the empty sleeve of his shirt mocks him. The smile leaves his face. _Maybe Steve won’t care?_ a tiny voice in his head proposes. _He_ doesn’t like being pre-judged because of his arm, but here he is pre-judging Steve and well… _everyone_ about it, assuming it would be a problem. Maybe it won’t be. Maybe he’s just projecting his own insecurities onto Steve?

 _Man up, Barnes_ , he growls at himself in his head. All he has to do is tell Steve and then if Steve does lose interest, well then at least Bucky will know. And then he can go back to being alone and blaming everyone else for it. Yep, that sounds great. Great plan.

He settles down on his bed and pulls up Steve’s number and takes a deep breath. Then he presses the call button.

It rings a few times before it connects. Bucky’s heart beats a little faster. Okay, a lot faster.

“Hi!” Steve says, sounding cheery, his warm voice practically making Bucky shiver in response.

“Hi, it’s Bucky,” Bucky manages.

“Hi, how are you?” Steve asks, and he sounds so happy, Bucky wonders why, and if _he_ could possibly have something to do with it. It would be nice if he did, even though it seems unlikely.

“Um, I got your message,” Bucky blurts, because he should probably get this over with and not dawdle on small talk. “I think a drink sounds good, I’d like that—”

“Great!” Steve exclaims, cutting in.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, before preparing himself for the worst. “I just…I sort of think I should tell you something first.” He pauses.

“Okay…?” Steve says, voice sounding curious.

Bucky shifts uncomfortably on his bed. “I sort of have this, um, well I guess other people call it a disability, I mean, I don’t really think of it like that, though I guess it does mean there are some things I can’t do, I mean, not a lot, I get by okay, but anyway, I just figure I should be upfront about it and—”

“Bucky?” Steve cuts off his babbling. “I really hope I’m not overstepping, and you can tell me to fuck off, but is this about your arm?” he asks gently.

Bucky takes a breath. He thought with his prosthesis on and his mittens on that Steve hadn’t noticed. He feels…he’s not sure what he feels. “I um, yeah. I’m an amputee,” he finally says. “I didn’t think you’d noticed,” he admits.

Steve takes a second. “I, um, I did. When you fell, you only tried to brace yourself with one hand and I noticed you didn’t use your left when you got back on your feet,” he says gently.

Oh. Steve knew the whole time then. “Um, and it doesn’t bother you?” Bucky asks in small voice.

“I wouldn’t have asked for your number or called you if it did,” Steve replies, and Bucky thinks it sounds like he’s smiling.

“Oh.” Bucky’s not sure what to say. All his assumptions just went out the window.

“So, how about that drink?”

Bucky’s a little stunned. “Are…are you sure?” he asks, because it just doesn’t make sense to him that a guy that hot could also be that compassionate—he’s not even making a big deal about it. Plus, Steve could have anyone, so why would he be at all interested in him?

“I am very much, one hundred percent sure,” Steve replies, and Bucky’s certain Steve’s grinning down the phone now. “If you want to, that is,” Steve adds, and Bucky hears a little touch of nervousness there now.

“Um, yeah I want to. That would be amazing.” Bucky freezes at his own moronic choice of words. “I mean that would be nice.” _Nice?_ “I mean…um, I’m just gonna shut up now,” he gives up, with a sigh.

Steve chuckles down the phone at him. “I think it would be amazing too,” he says, sounding genuine, not mocking, and saving Bucky from his embarrassment. “I don’t suppose you’re free tonight?”

Bucky wasn’t expecting that. “Tonight?” He looks at the clock by his bed. It’s only just past six.

“I’m still in need of someone to show me good places in the neighbourhood and I don’t have any plans,” Steve tells him. “I mean, not that you’re better than nothing, not at all,” Steve stumbles over his words, suddenly sounding a bit panicked. “I mean, you are. You’re lots better. I mean, I just…I’d just really like to see you,” he finishes, sounding a little breathless.

Bucky finds himself charmed. That word suits Steve. He’s charming in his sweet awkwardness. “Nice save,” Bucky grins down the phone.

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve says with a little amused huff. “I’m sorry, I just don’t do this a lot.”

“Spontaneous dates?”

“Any dates.”

Bucky finds that very hard to believe. “Well, me either. At least not lately,” he amends, because back in the day, he was very good at dating. Probably too good. Maybe even a little slutty if he thought about it. Not that he agrees with that word. He had a healthy sexual appetite is all—nothing wrong with that. It just didn’t lead to many meaningful things.

“Well, maybe spontaneous is good then?” Steve suggests. “Gives us less time to overthink. I mean, not that you’d overthink…I mean me. Less time for me to.”

Bucky can’t help laughing now, Steve’s faltering talking calming him down. “How’s eight?” he offers, a grin on his face. That gives him time to wash his hair and dig out some of his nicer clothes and try and look presentable. “I can pick a place if you want?”

“That sounds good,” Steve replies, and Bucky thinks he sounds relieved. “Tell me your address and I’ll come meet you?”

“Um, yeah, okay,” Bucky agrees, after only a moment of hesitation. His apartment is pretty crappy, but Steve doesn’t have to come in. He can meet him outside. He reels off his number and street for Steve.

“Great! I’ll see you soon then,” Steve says enthusiastically, before they say goodbye and hang up.

Bucky sits there for a moment, processing. _Shit, that really just happened_. He has a date. With the most attractive man alive. In less than two hours. He jumps up from his bed in a panic.

 

****

 

Bucky stands staring at his buzzer. It’s two minutes before eight. He raced around like a madman, grabbing a snack for dinner, having a shower, flinging out all his clothes, trying to find something that didn’t scream homeless person, and now he’s ready and waiting. He tries to take a few slow, calming breaths. He hates this. Always hated it. Those first date nerves that he even got back when he felt more confident. Now he’s…far less so, and the nerves are even worse.

He takes a look in his mirror where it hangs next to his coat hooks. He pushes back a bit of stray hair where it’s escaped the hair-tie he got his kind neighbour, Miss Parker, to tie it back in for him. He forgot that washing his hair tends to make it fluff out like a lion’s mane, so he had to tie it back. It’s a pain in the ass that he really can’t manage to do that himself anymore. He should probably just make his life easier and cut it, but he likes it like this. Old Bucky had short hair and new Bucky likes having longer hair to hide behind when needed. Luckily, his neighbour is one of the sweetest ladies around, and one of few people that Bucky doesn’t mind asking for very occasional help from.

Bucky studies his reflection in the mirror again. He hopes Steve likes his hair up like this. He checks over his outfit again. His black jeans look good at least, even if they have faded a bit, but they work with his one pair of decent boots. The sweater he picked…well, it’s not awful, but could be better. It’s simple, dark grey with a slight v-neck, but it’s at least a size too big for him. It helps hide the prosthetic arm better that way though.

The buzzer goes at two minutes after eight. Bucky jumps, even though it’s what he’s been waiting for, and then presses the button. “I’ll be right down,” he says in a rush, grabbing his coat and carefully pulling it on over his left arm and then his right and then pulling his mittens on cause it’s cold out there, and he just feels better with his prosthesis covered.

Bucky races down the stairs and then stops at the bottom one and gathers himself. _Pull it together, loser. It’s just a date_. He takes a breath and then walks to the front door and opens it, to find Steve waiting at the bottom of the steps for him.

Bucky walks down, trying to smile, but he must have forgotten just how attractive Steve is, because he’s a little floored by him. He’s got his wool hat on again, but he’s wearing a leather jacket with dark blue pants this time, and Bucky thinks he must be cold, dressed like that. Bucky’s in his cosy pea coat and he’s still cold.

“Hi.” Steve gives him a beautiful shy smile that has Bucky’s knees feeling a little weak.

“Hi,” he says back as he reaches Steve, pulling his collar up a bit against the cold wind. They both don’t seem to know exactly how to greet each other, so they sort of stand there smiling shyly at each other, but neither making any further move.

“So did you pick a place?” Steve asks.

“Uh, yeah, there’s this place, Frankie’s, just a few blocks away. I figured we could walk?” Bucky suggests.

“Sure,” Steve says easily, and they start walking next to each other, Steve shoving his bare hands into his pockets.

“So do you live nearby?” Bucky asks, because that seems like a thing a normal person would ask on a date. And he can be a normal person dammit, even if Steve does make him blurt stupid things occasionally, it seems.

“Yeah, not too far actually. Just moved in a couple of weeks back,” Steve says, looking at Bucky as they walk.

“Oh yeah? Where’d you move from?”

“I was in Manhattan for a while,” Steve explains.

“Brooklyn boy can’t stay away, huh?” Bucky grins.

“I guess not,” Steve returns his grin. “Lotsa good things about Brooklyn.”

 _Well there is now, now that you’re in Brooklyn_ , Bucky thinks. “Which part did you grow up in?” Bucky asks, willing his inner thoughts to shut up, and Steve starts chatting easily about that as they walk. It’s nice. There’s no awkward silences so far and it even feels a little romantic thanks to the Christmas lights everywhere, giving the streets a bit of a magic as they reflect on the remaining snow, making it glitter.

When they reach Frankie’s, Steve holds the door open for him. Frankie’s is kind of a crappy looking place, but Bucky likes it. It’s dark and no one bothers him when he comes here. It’s more pub-like than bar-like as well, due to the owner being British, and feels a bit more casual.

“What can I get you?” Steve asks as they wait at the bar.

“Oh, I’ll just have whatever’s on tap.” They have pretty good beer here, and Bucky’s never been too bothered about what he drinks.

Steve orders them two of the same and Bucky points out a table in the corner and they head over there.

He pulls the mitten off his right hand with his teeth but leaves on the other one. The next task is getting his coat off. Bucky’s got pretty good at one-handed buttons, so he makes fast work of them, but it always takes a little longer, getting his coat fully off. If Steve notices, he doesn’t say anything. In fact, he busies himself taking off his own jacket. Bucky likes that. It feels polite of him. As Bucky dumps his coat on an extra chair, Steve also takes off his hat and wow, his gorgeous level just climbed again, as if that was even possible. Bucky’s only just realised he hadn’t seen him without a hat before—he only knew he was a dark blond from the little tufts of hair that stuck out from under it. Steve is so gorgeous, Bucky wants to weep. Or run his hand through his hair. He’s not decided which.

Steve starts looking nervous, and Bucky realises he’s just been staring at him. “Everything okay?” Steve asks.

Bucky sips his beer, trying to cover for his staring. “Yeah, just…I like your hair.”

“Oh.” Steve’s face brightens, and he reaches a hand up to touch his hair. “Thanks. I like yours up like that,” he smiles.

“Thanks.” Bucky feels his face getting hot. “I usually have it down, it’s not so easy putting it up anymore,” he blabbers, his hand moving up to touch it, subconsciously.

Steve just nods like he completely understands.

“So, um, what do you do, Steve?” Bucky asks, trying to get the focus off of himself as he takes another larger sip of beer.

Steve looks down at his glass. “I, um, work for the government.”

Bucky nods thoughtfully. “Oh yeah? Doing what?”

Steve runs his fingers up and down his glass, getting them wet with the condensation there. “Oh, a little of this, little of that.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Bucky says, tapping his nose and pointing his finger at Steve, and then instantly kicking himself for doing so, because what sort of nerd _is_ he, for god’s sake, before continuing. “Is it all classified?” He leans in a little, with purposefully wide eyes. “Are you a spy?”

Steve seems to relax a little and chuckles. “No, but I know some.”

Bucky lets out an amused huff. He bets Steve works somewhere really dull, probably on things that are confidential but so boring that no one cares anyway.

“How about you?”

“Oh, I work at a hardware store,” Bucky admits. It’s not very impressive sounding, even though for Bucky it was a big deal to even manage to get a job. The owner is really good to veterans though, as long as they work hard. Bucky could be doing a lot worse.

“That sounds interesting,” Steve offers, even though they both know it’s anything but.

“Yeah, it’s not,” Bucky says with a grin and a shrug. “But I had trouble finding anywhere after my accident, so you know…a job’s a job.”

Steve takes the tiniest glance at Bucky’s left arm, but he doesn’t ask what happened. Bucky is starting to wonder if Steve might just be the most perfect person he’s ever met.

“I used to be in the army,” Bucky tells him, opening up, because he doesn’t usually talk about that, but something about Steve makes him want to be open.

Steve’s eyes brighten with interest. “Me too!”

Bucky looks at him in surprise. “No kidding? Where were you stationed?” At least this helps explain Steve’s ridiculous physique.

Steve looks down at his drink again, doing that nervous fiddling thing he does that Bucky’s picked up on. “Um, I was special forces.”

“Ah, right. Classified.” Bucky nods in understanding.

“Sorry,” Steve offers, looking apologetically at Bucky.

Bucky waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t love army talk so much anyway.” He really doesn’t. But it’s kinda cool to know he and Steve have that in common—some shared life experience at least.

“So, did you work things out with your sister?” Steve asks out of nowhere.

Bucky gulps down the mouthful of beer he’s just taken. “Nah, not yet. It’ll be fine though. She can never stay mad at me for long. Family, right?” he says with a sheepish smile. “You have any family in the city?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. Most…well… _all_ really, of my family is dead.”

Bucky’s smile falls. “Shit, I’m sorry, that’s…that’s really…’m sorry.” He tries to give Steve a comforting look, not knowing quite what to say.

Steve laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “Oh god, look at me. _My family’s dead_ , what a great topic of conversation. Way for me to kill a date.” He gives Bucky a wry smile.

 _God, could he be any cuter?_ “I think you’re doing just fine,” Bucky says with what he hopes is a warm smile, and not an ‘oh my god you’re so dreamy’ smile. He reaches for his beer, but he’s still a little caught by Steve’s gorgeous face and he misses and knocks the whole thing over.

Steve scoots backwards to avoid the beer, while Bucky grabs for the glass to pick it up, but the damage is already done, and beer is all over the table and dripping down the sides.

“Shit,” Bucky curses as he looks at the mess he’s made. At least he managed to not get any on Steve. “Well…I think you’re doing a hell of a lot better than me,” he amends with a sigh, trying to make light of it, though he feels like a clumsy idiot. He can’t even blame the arm, seeing as he only needs the one hand to pick a drink up, but apparently he can’t even do that right.

Steve just gives him a little grin. “I’ll go and grab a cloth,” he offers, and he’s off before Bucky can argue.

Bucky tries to clean up with a tissue he finds in his pocket, but that doesn’t work, and he gives up and slumps down in his chair. “God, Bucky Barnes, human disaster, that’s me,” he mumbles to himself.

“Barnes, huh?” Steve says as he’s back in a second and clearly overheard Bucky. He starts mopping up the beer with a cloth, refusing to allow Bucky to help as he protests.

Bucky gives in. “Yeah, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, sniper extraordinaire, who can’t even hold a drink properly,” he grumbles.

Steve smiles as he finishes wiping the table. “Well for what it’s worth, _I_ don’t think you’re a human disaster.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. He literally fell on this guy the first time they met. “Yeah, thanks.”

“I think you might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve says softly, still smiling.

Bucky’s lips part but nothing comes out, he’s so flustered by Steve’s comment. Steve just sits back down and keeps looking at him with those soft warm eyes.

“Cute like ‘aww, I wanna ruffle his hair, he’s such a loser’ cute?” Bucky’s stupid brain finally says.

Steve presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh. “No, I think cute in the other kind of way,” he says, and the look this time is a little more heated. Steve’s pupils look a little wider, and his eyes seem to be flitting to Bucky’s lips.

 _Shit_. Bucky’s throat feels dry. No one’s looked at him like that in forever. In fact, the only time people have looked at him like that, he was probably halfway through introducing them to his bedroom.

“Um, so…Steve…Steve what?” Bucky finally remembers words again.

Steve stops looking at him and looks at his own hands again. “Steve Grant.”

 _Grant_ , Bucky muses. _Hmm…Bucky Grant. Eh, that’s alright, not the best. James Grant. Ooh, that sounds better. Sorta like some old movie star or something_. Bucky feels his eyes widen as he realises what he’s thinking and he shifts in his chair. Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with him.

“Can I get you another drink?” Steve offers while Bucky works through his inner turmoil.

Bucky nods. “Thanks,” he smiles gratefully, and then uses the time Steve’s away to try and calm down.

 _Steve thinks he’s cute_.

 

****

 

Steve might have ruined all men for Bucky. He’s walking him back home and Bucky can barely believe how well the date has gone, beer spilling aside. Steve is like this amazing combination of sweet, with this little hint of nervousness sometimes, but at the same time he’s got this commanding presence and natural self-assuredness and Bucky can tell he’s the kind of person who knows the things he wants and goes after them. And the way Steve looked at him as the night went on…Bucky’s starting to think he might just be one of those things.

Steve’s shoulder bumps his as they walk—Bucky’s right shoulder, as he made sure he was on Steve’s left—and they’re still chatting away. It’s been one of those dates where everything just comes easily, with threads of conversation weaving into different topics, natural as anything. Bucky thinks it feels like they’ve known each other for ages. When they reach his place, Bucky doesn’t want the date to be over. That’s how he knows it was a really good date. That and the fact that it’s just after midnight and they only left because Frankie’s was closing.

“So, I had a really good time,” Steve starts as they turn and face each other, just in front of Bucky’s front steps.

“Me too,” Bucky replies honestly, shifting his weight. It’s the only awkward part of the date so far. He doesn’t know if Steve might try and kiss him, doesn’t know if maybe he should try and kiss Steve, doesn’t even really know if he’s ready for that. He feels stupid even thinking it, because a kiss is no big deal, except for Bucky it feels like it really is. He sort of cut off this part of himself when they cut off his arm, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to open himself up again. Plus also it’s Steve and Steve is this perfect being and Bucky’s damn sure that a kiss with him would probably blow his mind even if he _wasn’t_ out of practice.

“Bucky?”

Bucky blinks and realises Steve is looking at him funny. “Huh?”

“I just asked if maybe you’d wanna show me some other places in Brooklyn?” Steve says, looking cutely nervous.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second,” Bucky apologises, scratching the side of his hair. “I’d like that. I’ll try and think of the best places you need to see,” he says, unable to keep a smile from his face.

“Sounds good,” Steve grins, face relaxing again. “Well, um, goodnight then.” His face changes back to nervous again and he moves forward and Bucky’s a little bit frozen, not entirely sure what to do, but Steve just leans in and gently wraps his arms round him and hugs him. Okay, hugs, Bucky can do hugs. He relaxes and hugs Steve back with his right arm, trying not to focus on how damn firm Steve’s chest is against his or how solid his back muscles are under his hand or how he smells really good, like sorta woodsy and warm.

Steve pulls back and gives Bucky a sweet smile again. “See you soon?” he says, sounding hopeful.

Bucky can’t help the probably dumbstruck smile on his face. “Yeah. I’ll, um, I’ll call you,” he offers, because Steve made the first move last time and Bucky can at least share in the responsibility.

Bucky manages to tear his eyes away from Steve’s gorgeous blue ones—with their tiniest flecks of green that Bucky really shouldn’t have been looking hard enough at to notice—and makes his way up the five steps to his door. When he opens the door and turns to look, Steve gives him a little wave and doesn’t go until Bucky’s inside, where he leans against the door for a moment. There are swarms of butterflies going off in his stomach.

“Shit,” he whispers into the air, unable to stop grinning. He knows he’s already in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys...the response to the first chapter has been incredible, thank you so much :) I hope you liked this chapter, let me know?


	3. The 19th of December

“Hey,” Bucky smiles as Becca waltzes into his apartment past him. She glares at him as she moves past, and he shuts the door behind her. Hmm, still mad then. At least she turned up so she could collect his gifts for their parents and for herself. Bucky knew she wouldn’t be able to resist a present.

“Where’s your tree?” she asks him, frowning at the room.

Bucky huffs out a laugh. “I don’t have a tree, Becs.”

“What about decorations? Or lights?” she asks, still looking round the room and its plain grey walls, like she’s missed some hidden reindeer display.

“I meant what I said about work, I don’t really have the money to waste on decorations.” Bucky heads over to his closet to take out the presents for her.

“So you’re just going to be all sad and lonely and with no decorations or anything?” she asks, sitting on his bed, suddenly sounding sad instead of annoyed.

Bucky walks over and passes her the gifts that he put into a large gift bag so they were easy for her to carry. “I’m literally working every day from now to New Year’s except for Christmas Day, I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t you just ask mom and dad for some money?” she suggests, looking into the bag of presents in her hands.

“Cause I’m twenty-eight years old and can get by just fine. I don’t need luxuries like you,” he says, sitting down and nudging her jokingly. Becca’s always liked the finer things in life even though she’s in her third year of college and should really be even poorer than Bucky, but she’s extremely good at getting their dad to ‘lend’ her money.

“How were mom and dad by the way?” she muses.

“Pretty annoyed,” Bucky admits, with a sigh. His mother had been especially upset with him. Bucky felt kind of bad, but not really bad enough, to be honest. He figures he shouldn’t have to go out of obligation, he should _want_ to see people. “Look, I really am sorry. I just don’t wanna sit there and have the rest of the family look at me like some sort of sideshow.” He hasn’t seen their extended family since the accident and he knows how they’ll make him feel. Like an invalid. Like poor Bucky, he’s so broken now. Even his mom still gets like that sometimes. He’s mostly doing fine, he doesn’t need their pitying words and looks.

Becca sighs and links her arm with his. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry I got mad,” she says, pulling her patented apology pout.

“That’s okay,” Bucky tells her. “I know it’s sucky of me.”

Becca shrugs, with a little smile. “It won’t be as fun without you,” she admits. “But fine. I guess I’m on your side,” she begrudgingly decides. “Is there anything you need before I head off?” she offers.

Bucky smiles and unlinks their arms to wave his hand at her. “Nails could do with a trim?” he asks.

Becca takes his hand and inspects his nails. “Ugh, you’re telling me,” she replies, sticking out her tongue at him. She lets go and rummages in her bag for the little manicure kit Bucky knows she carries around with her, turning to face him on the bed, and then sets to work trimming and filing his nails for him.

Bucky watches her with fondness as she works. She’s been a godsend to him since the accident. As much as he tries, there are some things that he just can’t do anymore, and cutting his own nails is one of them. But Becca has never once complained about helping him with anything, and never treats him with pity. She’s his constant source of support, anytime he needs her, and even though there are seven years between them, they’re incredibly close—and even more so since his accident. Becca even offered to move in with him afterwards, but even though he was grateful for the offer, he didn’t want her to sacrifice so much for him, especially as she’s in college and he wants her to focus on that and have the same experience as everyone else. Whenever he truly needs her, she’s always there though. Bucky doesn’t know how he would be coping without her. He’s glad he’s not having to find out.

“You’re at least going to meet up with Logan and the guys at some point, right?” Becca asks while smoothing his nail edges with her file.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll grab a drink or something one night.” Bucky pauses for a moment, hesitating for a second. “I might have a date too,” he tells her, knowing she’ll be happy, and that it will help ease his guilt at not going home with her.

“A date?” she squees at him, lifting her head from looking at his hand, pausing in her filing. “Why did you not tell me that straight away? With who?” She grins wildly at him.

“That guy from the coffee place, Steve,” he admits, unable to not smile when he says Steve’s name.

“Hot AF Steve?” she exclaims. “No fucking way.”

Bucky frowns at her. “Excuse you, I can get a Steve,” he deadpans.

“Oh, I know you can. I just didn’t think _you_ knew that.” She grins at him excitedly. “So when are you going out?” she asks, restarting on his nails again.

“We actually already did, a couple of nights ago,” Bucky admits.

Her head snaps up again. “And you didn’t call me?” She smacks him on the arm.

“It was a last minute kind of thing,” he explains, flinching back from her instinctively. “But it went really well. I mean I think it did.” It felt like it went extraordinarily well, really. Bucky can’t remember a better first date he’s ever been on. He can’t remember being this excited about a person before.

“Did he kiss you? Oh god, you didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

Bucky narrows his eyes at her. “Okay, this is verging into non brother-sister conversation. But no, neither of those. We just hugged. But it was nice. He’s really sweet.” That’s an understatement too. Steve is so beyond adorable and gentlemanly and kind, but without being drippy. He’s funny and a little flirty too and Bucky didn’t really know that combination existed in anyone until he met Steve.

Becca’s smiling so happily at him, Bucky can’t help but feel it rub off on him. It’s nice she’s so supportive of this. She really cares about his happiness. It sort of makes him want to care about his happiness too.

“So, when are you seeing him again?” she grins.

“I don’t know yet. I said I’d call him. How long should I wait to call him?” He’s so out of practice, he doesn’t want to come off as desperate, but he doesn’t want to wait too long either.

“Ugh, don’t be one of those guys,” Becca scoffs at him. “Do you _want_ to call him?”

Bucky thinks it’s a rhetorical question, but she waits so he nods.

“Then call him. Playing games is dumb. If he likes you, he’ll just be pleased to hear from you.” She finishes up filing his nails and tucks the items back into her kit.

Bucky frowns at her. “When did you get so wise?” he asks, while looking at his newly short nails.

“It skipped you and I got all the smarts,” she sasses him, getting up from the bed and picking up her present bag. “I’m gonna go, but you call him right now,” she orders.

Bucky follows her. “Okay, okay, I will.” He lifts his hand at her. “Thanks.”

She hugs him at the door tightly. “Okay bro, I’ll facetime you on Christmas. Try not to work too hard. Maybe steal a piece of tinsel from work or something at least?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

She waves as she leaves, and Bucky closes the door and then pulls out his phone. It’s just after six-thirty. There’s no time like the present, he supposes. He sits back on his bed, leaning against the headboard, and calls.

“Hi!” Steve answers after only a few rings.

“Hi, it’s Bucky,” he says, even though he’s sure Steve’s phone screen already told him that. His heart’s already beating faster just hearing Steve’s voice.

“Give me one second,” Steve says, and Bucky hears background noise.

“Is this a bad time?” he asks apologetically.

He hears what sounds like a door closing and then the background noise goes away. “No, it’s a great time, how are you?”

“I’m good. I, um, thought of somewhere else you need to go, if you’re interested?”

“Definitely.” Steve sounds so happy, Bucky feels himself smiling. He feels like he’s sixteen again and just realised his crush liked him too.

“Do you like ice cream?” Bucky asks, because he really wants to take Steve to this amazing ice cream place.

“In winter?” Steve sounds puzzled.

“Ice cream is an all-weather treat,” Bucky tells him in his best ‘that’s so obvious’ tone. “Plus I have this theory that eating cold food in cold weather makes you feel warmer.”

Steve chuckles down the phone. “I’m not sure I believe your theory, but let’s do it. We can warm each other up if we get cold,” he says, and then there’s a pause while Bucky takes that in. “I mean…I didn’t mean it like _that_ , I just…” Steve trails off. “So, ice cream!” he announces, as though trying to reset his sentence.

Bucky laughs down the phone, thoroughly charmed. “Are you free tomorrow, around seven?”

“Sounds good to me. Shall I drop by your place?” Steve offers.

The ice cream place is only a few blocks from him. Bucky’s starting to think maybe he should expand his horizons, but oh well. “Yeah, sounds good. See you then,” he smiles. This has gone so well.

“Looking forward to it,” Steve says before they hang up.

Bucky can’t stop smiling. He’s got a second date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention, because the chapters reflect days, the length of them varies massively based on what happens each day.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support so far, your feedback is a gift :D


	4. The 20th of December

“Four scoops?” Bucky says in disbelief as he looks at the practical mountain of ice cream being piled onto a cone at Steve’s request.

Steve looks a little jokingly defensive. “Hey, you said it was amazing, I gotta try a bunch of flavours.”

Bucky shakes his head in disbelief as the woman at the counter passes Steve his giant mound of ice cream. Steve must work out a lot if he always eats like this. Bucky gets just two scoops, thanking the woman as she passes him his.

“Wuss,” Steve says with a smirk.

Bucky does his best to look completely affronted. “Not all of us live in the gym,” he shoots back.

Steve smiles, but looks down at his feet for a moment, and then manages to pay as Bucky tries to figure out how to get his wallet while holding his ice cream.

“Thanks,” he tells Steve when he hands over some money.

“You’re welcome,” Steve smiles at him.

Bucky really loves that smile. He feels like he could really get used to that smile being directed at him. Steve smiles in this sweet, shy way, but it lights up his face. He’s stunning to look at. Bucky loses himself in it for a moment.

“Do you want to sit?” Steve offers, breaking Bucky out of his staring. The place has a few small tables and two are free.

“We could take a walk round the neighbourhood?” Bucky suggests. “So I can prove my ice cream theory?”

Steve grins at him. “Alright, I’m game.”

They walk along, chatting and eating, and Bucky finds that with Steve’s attention on him, he barely even feels the cold. He spends the time learning more about Steve’s favourite things. Steve apparently loves film noir, but also has a thing for early Disney, like _Pinocchio_ and _Dumbo_. He says he doesn’t get round to watching TV a lot, and Bucky automatically thinks of all his favourite shows that he could get Steve to watch with him. And that’s when Bucky realises, he’s actually hoping for future dates with Steve. And he’s not freaking out about it. He wants more dates and wants to let Steve into his life. He wants Steve to get to know him. It sounds like such a little thing, but for Bucky it feels immense. He hadn’t expected this.

“So, is this not the best ice cream?” Bucky asks when Steve’s managed to get most of the way through his, trying to focus on Steve and not the monumental moment going on in his head.

“It _is_ pretty good,” Steve admits. “Your cold theory is kinda bullshit though, sorry Buck,” he grins, stopping walking.

“Oh you’re so wrong,” Bucky grins back, his heart glowing a little at Steve calling him _Buck_ , as though he’s been calling him that forever. He licks the last of his ice cream and can’t help but notice the way Steve’s eyes track the movement. Then something catches his eye near Steve’s shoulder. “Is that…” he starts, and then yep, there’s another one.

“It’s snowing,” Steve says gleefully, looking up.

Bucky feels his face fall. _Fuckin’ snow_. Just what he needs when they were having a nice walk together.

“You don’t like snow?” Steve asks, clearly seeing the distaste on Bucky’s face.

“Think about how we met, Steve. I very much do _not_ like snow,” Bucky grumbles, crunching the remains of his ice cream cone.

“Technically that was ice,” Steve corrects. “And what’s not to like about that? Might not have met you otherwise,” he says with a shy smile, before taking a bite out of his ice cream.

Bucky feels himself blushing. Steve has a point. Maybe Bucky fuckin’ loves snow. Except he’s really starting to feel the cold again now. He didn’t wear a hat and the snow’s starting to dampen his hair. “Yeah, okay, maybe it’s not so bad,” Bucky allows. “But we should probably go inside somewhere.”

“We could grab coffee somewhere?” Steve suggests, and Bucky feels a little glow because Steve obviously wants to continue their date, when the snow would be a perfect excuse to bail if he wanted to.

Bucky looks around to see where they are. What with Steve next to him, he didn’t really pay attention. They’re only a few streets away from his apartment. “I have coffee at my place, if you want?” Bucky offers, before thinking it through. Okay, his apartment is clean and all, because it’s just easier for him to keep it that way when he has to do everything one-handed, but it’s so tiny and Steve’s probably going to realise what a loser he is the minute he steps inside and then Bucky’s future fantasies will just disappear down the drain and—

“That sounds great,” Steve says, interrupting his thoughts.

Well, he can’t really take it back now, Bucky thinks. “Okay.” The snow’s getting heavier now anyway, so it’s better they get inside.

Steve finishes his ice cream as they start walking again and he keeps glancing over at Bucky. “Are you cold?”

Bucky can feel himself shivering. Steve’s very astute. He nods.

“Um, here,” Steve says, and then he reaches out and wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling Bucky into his side, and Bucky stops breathing because Steve’s hand is right on the one part of him that literally no one except a medical professional has touched in almost a year. He feels so tense, he thinks he might break. He forces himself to keep walking with Steve like that. He can’t make a big deal about it. He knows Steve doesn’t realise and he doesn’t want him to feel like he’s done something wrong. It’s nice and warm, being curled up under Steve’s arm anyway. It’s just also terrifying.

When they reach his place, Steve lets go and Bucky breathes an internal sigh of…well, not relief, not exactly, but he lets go of the tension he was feeling. Bucky unlocks the door and Steve follows him up the stairs to the second floor. He opens the door to his apartment, feeling a little nervous, and gestures for Steve to come in, waiting for his reaction.

Bucky’s place is just a studio. The only other two doors in the place are to his bathroom and little closet. He doesn’t even have a sofa—he spends most of his time propped up in bed, eating or reading or watching TV. Becca helped him make little adjustments here and there, to make his life easier, but generally his apartment looks like any other tiny apartment.

“Nice place,” Steve comments, looking around.

Bucky laughs, because obviously Steve is making fun of him and it’s better to just laugh it off. “Sure.”

Steve frowns at him as Bucky starts unbuttoning his coat. “I mean it. I grew up in a place like this. Though not as nice.”

“You grew up in a tiny studio apartment?”

“We were pretty poor,” Steve tells him. “And it’s not tiny. It’s cosy. I like it,” he smiles.

Oh. Steve’s being genuine. He actually isn’t bothered by Bucky’s tiny apartment. “Oh. Well, thanks, I guess,” Bucky says, flummoxed.

“Where’s your tree though?” Steve asks as he starts taking off his coat too and then his boots.

Bucky takes Steve’s coat and hangs it up next to his. “Not you too,” he groans.

“What?” Steve asks, eyes sparkling.

“My sister, Becca, she was going on about how I have no Christmas decorations. I told her it’s not really a priority right now.” Bucky walks into his little kitchen area and starts making coffee as Steve follows him, leaning against the counter. “I mean, personally, I think having a few crappy decorations and being alone on Christmas is probably sadder than just pretending it’s any other day,” Bucky shrugs, “but Becca doesn’t see it that way.”

“You’re not spending Christmas with your family?” Steve asks, sounding surprised.

Bucky shakes his head and leans against the opposite counter to Steve while waiting for the coffee to be done. “Nah. That’s the thing she was mad about the other day. I picked up a bunch of extra shifts at work, plus I really didn’t feel like seeing my family,” he admits.

“Why not?” Steve looks curiously at him. “If you don’t mind me asking?” he adds quickly.

“No, it’s just…well, most of them haven’t seen me since my accident,” Bucky says, gesturing a little to his left side. “And I just didn’t fancy having everyone treating me differently or staring at me like I’m a sideshow.” He turns and pours the coffee, wondering what it is about Steve that gets him opening up so easily.

“Do people do that a lot?” Steve asks when Bucky passes him his coffee and offers him sugar and milk.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky glowers a little. “You’d be amazed by the amount of people who think me missing an arm means they have to talk really loudly and slowly at me, like I lost part of my brain instead of the arm or something.”

Steve frowns, warming his hands on his mug. “That’s terrible.”

Bucky smiles at his earnest tone. “Yeah well…” Bucky shrugs it off. He’s used to it now—it doesn’t bother him half as much as it did. He just doesn’t want to be around people like that. “Do you want to sit?” Bucky offers, and then remembers his bed is basically his sofa.

Steve seems to have figured that out, because he nods and heads over there, perching himself on the right-hand side of the bed. Bucky turns the TV on, but on quietly as he goes, just so they have some background noise. He’d rather find out more about Steve than watch TV right now.

When Bucky sits up against the pillows on the left side, putting his coffee down on the nightstand, Steve does the same, lifting his feet from the floor and turning, so they are both sitting propped up next to each other, Steve turning a bit so he can see Bucky better and Bucky doing the same.

Bucky gets caught up in those devastating blue eyes again. “Second date and already made your way into my bed,” he jokes, and then instantly wants to kick himself.

Steve smiles softly, staring right back at him. “Hey, you’re the one who invited me in,” he counters.

“Blame the snow,” Bucky tries to grin, but he’s very aware he’s just staring at Steve’s lips now. They look so soft and pink as they warm up again after the cold.

“I think I’ll be thanking the snow,” Steve replies softly, and then he reaches out and tucks a little of Bucky’s hair behind his ear.

_Jesus_. Just Steve’s fingers grazing his ear is enough to send Bucky into a shiver. Bucky’s just so not prepared for this, and then Steve leans forward and Bucky’s just frozen, waiting, and then Steve’s lips are touching his and Bucky’s eyes flutter closed and it’s so soft and delicate and it’s everything. Bucky moves his lips against Steve’s and Steve moves his hand to Bucky’s face, fingertips just softly stroking into his hair, setting off all the nerve-endings in his head. It’s more overwhelming than Bucky had thought it would be. He’d forgotten what this was like, but it’s wonderful. Or more accurately, Steve is wonderful. He seems to sense exactly where Bucky’s at, not pushing for more than this sweet kiss, not deepening it. Bucky feels like his whole body just woke up. Every inch of him feels alive.

Steve pulls away. It takes Bucky a second to open his eyes again and he finds Steve watching him with this look of what he can only interpret as adoration, and god, it’s amazing.

Bucky reaches out this time and puts his hand gently on the side of Steve’s neck, leaning back into the kiss and Steve goes willingly. It’s still soft and slow and everything Bucky needs. He’s in so deep with this man already, he can’t even believe it. His heart is pounding, and it feels like the rest of the world is gone. There’s nothing wrong, because everything with Steve feels so right. Bucky’s hand caresses the soft skin of Steve’s neck as Steve continues to kiss him gently with these soft lingering kisses. When they finally break apart again, Bucky’s really considering if Steve’s just a hallucination he dreamed up, because how could anyone be this perfect.

Steve looks into Bucky’s eyes, his eyes dark with desire, but soft with what Bucky hopes is happiness.

“I, um, I want to tell you about my arm,” Bucky says tentatively, and the words seem to surprise Steve as much as they surprise him. He’s not sure how those words just came out of him. What a way to kill the mood. But for whatever reason, he wants to share it with Steve.

“You don’t have to,” Steve says softly, his fingers finding Bucky’s hand and tracing along the surface. “I know how hard it is out there, how hard it is to remember.”

Bucky feels his face tighten a little. “Oh, um…I didn’t lose it in the army.”

“Oh.” Steve’s face colours. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

Bucky shrugs. “Easy assumption to make. I actually came back without a scratch on me. At least physically,” he says, with a little snort. The irony of his injury isn’t lost on him. He sits up a little and starts slowly. “It was almost a year ago now, during the battle of New York, when all those aliens showed up?”

Steve’s face changes. His brow furrows as he listens to Bucky.

“I was walking down near Grand Central, heading to a job interview actually. I’d been back a few months at that point and I was looking for work. Anyway, everything went crazy, and there were aliens and stuff falling out of the sky, and then the Avengers were there fighting back. Everyone was running and screaming…it was madness. Worse war zone I’d ever been in.” Bucky looks down at the bed covers. “There was a lot of destruction happening and I guess I was just in the wrong place, cause bits of this building fell down all around me and I got hit and kind of buried beneath it.” Bucky takes a breath, trying not to remember that moment too much. He’s a little quieter when he speaks next. “It was the worst experience of my life. I could barely breathe, and I thought I was gonna die there, buried alive.”

Steve’s breath hitches and Bucky looks over at him for a moment. He’s staring at Bucky with the tensest look on his face.

Bucky looks back down. “Anyway. Not a minute later, people got me out. They saw it happen and instead of running, they helped. I’ve never been so grateful in my life.” He smiles to himself. He’s never had much faith in people, but the people that day—the people whose names he never even knew—they were his heroes. They’d cared more about others than themselves and saved his life. “Anyway,” Bucky lets out a breath and looks back at Steve, “they got me out, but my arm was fucked, and they had to amputate as soon as I got to the hospital.” Bucky smiles sadly. “It really sucked for a while. Sometimes still does. But I guess at least I’m here.” That’s an understatement. The adjustment had been incredibly hard and in fact, he still doesn’t like looking at his arm, and he still sometimes has phantom limb syndrome, but not as much as he used to at least. But, most of the time, he _is_ still glad that he’s alive.

Bucky waits for Steve’s reaction. He seems to be having a hard time. He doesn’t speak for a second. “I…I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he says, sitting up from where he was leaning.

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky shrugs a little. People always say that to him. He supposes it’s nice and it’s what people are supposed to say, so he doesn’t begrudge them it—it just doesn’t really mean anything to him.

“Do you blame them?” Steve asks quietly.

“Blame who?”

“The Avengers?” Steve says, looking over at him, his face serious.

Bucky lets out a small chuckle at the weird question. “Why would I blame them?”

“Well, it’s their fault, isn’t it? That you got hurt?” Steve says in a weird tone. Bucky can’t interpret it.

“Course it isn’t. They were doing their best to defend an entire city from aliens. I know some people went off on them, but think how much worse things would have been without them. They’re a bunch of heroes. Not their fault they weren’t everywhere at once.” Bucky shrugs and smiles at Steve. He feels better having talked about it. It took a long time until he didn’t have flashbacks at the mere mention of it, but here with Steve, he feels okay. He’s happy Steve knows. It’s not like it’s a secret, but it’s also not something he just tells anyone about. But Steve is quickly becoming not just anyone. He’s definitely on his way to becoming a someone.

“That’s far too generous of you,” Steve tells him, voice tight. He swings his feet down to the floor, his back to Bucky, and takes a large sip of his coffee.

“Were you in Manhattan that day?” Bucky asks, because Steve said he’d been living there before.

“Yeah, I was,” Steve says lightly, and then stands up from the bed. “I better get going, it’s getting kinda late.”

Bucky feels a sharp sting of disappointment. It’s not even nine yet. He could say that, but in the face of Steve’s abruptness, all that comes out is a small “okay”. He clambers off the bed as Steve moves to the door and pulls his boots on. Bucky stands watching him, not sure what to do or say. Steve seems to be avoiding looking at him. Bucky’s wondering what the hell happened in the last few minutes because things had been so good and felt so right and now Steve doesn’t seem to be able to get away from him fast enough.

Steve pulls on his coat and then finally turns to face Bucky. “I had a great time,” he says, but it feels flat to Bucky’s ears.

“Yeah,” Bucky manages. “Get home safe,” he adds, because a quick glance out the window tells him it’s still snowing, and pretty heavily now.

“I will,” Steve says with a smile that doesn’t light up his face. It hardly moves his mouth.

“I’ll walk you down,” Bucky offers, still feeling a little blindsided, as Steve reaches for the door.

“No, it’s fine, I can let myself out,” Steve says, again with that crappy smile. “Goodnight,” he adds, and then he’s out the door before Bucky can even say anything.

Bucky stands staring at the empty space where Steve was just standing. He has no idea what he did to make Steve run off like that and it hurts. And then it hurts even more when he realises Steve didn’t say he’d call him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reads, kudoses, and comments! You're making my pre-Christmas great :) Send me your thoughts if you like? :)


	5. The 21st of December

Bucky is miserable at work. It’s surprisingly busy considering it’s a hardware store at Christmas, and Bucky is definitely judging anyone buying presents from a hardware store, but all the customers still can’t keep his mind off Steve. He must have fucked up in some way. He just wishes he knew how. Maybe he could fix it. He’s tried to think back over everything he said, but he can’t remember anything that makes sense of why Steve left like that.

He’s in a foul mood by the time he gets home. There have been no messages from Steve. Bucky sinks down onto his bed, fumbling to take off his prosthesis, because that thing hurts after wearing it all day, and he fights the temptation to chuck it across the room. He doesn’t need a broken prosthesis on top of everything else.

He looks down at the remains of his arm in disgust. It must be the arm. There wasn’t anything else that night to make Steve run, so it must have been the arm. Maybe Steve finally realised what that meant. He tells himself he was ready for this. He expected it even. But it fucking hurts. He thought Steve saw him. He thought Steve liked him. But he guesses that’s over.

When he goes to bed and there’s not even a text from Steve, he really knows. He won’t be hearing from Steve Grant again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you the chapter lengths varied. lol. Sorry for this 😇 I promise the next chapter is 3,000+


	6. The 22nd of December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, the amount of love (or you know, upset) for a 200-word chapter...thank you so much. Hopefully this makes up for it :D

The next day isn’t any better. Logan texts him to see if he wants to go for Christmas drinks with the guys after work. It’s a Saturday, but Bucky’s working. He’s working Sunday and Monday too. He would like to see the guys, but he just can’t face it. He doesn’t think he can pull on his happy Bucky face and pretend like he’s okay. And he _was_ okay. That’s the worst part. Sure, he was going to be alone for Christmas, but that was his choice and he was fine with it. His life was maybe a little empty, but he was managing, meandering along. His life was fine before Steve Grant showed him what he was missing out on and then took it away again, like ‘here’s what you could have, if you weren’t so broken and undesirable’. So Bucky lies and says he’s working late, even though the store closes at six-thirty that day. He promises to catch up with them around New Year’s.

He shuffles home after closing, his shoulder aching the whole way. It’s a thirty-minute walk or so but takes longer as he drags himself along. He feels exhausted and unwanted and he really just wants to curl up in bed and maybe put on _Hachi_ , aka the saddest movie ever, and let himself cry and wail to his empty room about why Hachi wouldn’t just let the professor’s family love him and how a dog has more loyalty than people.

He thinks he might have been pushed over the edge into insanity when he approaches his apartment building to find that Steve is sitting there on his steps. Bucky honestly expected to never see or hear from him again, so he’s a little bewildered.

Steve’s eyes light up as he sees Bucky. “Hi,” he smiles softly, getting to his feet as Bucky reaches the steps.

“Um, hi?” Bucky’s really not sure what he’s doing here. Maybe he’s here to officially break it off? Not that there was anything to break to begin with and really, Bucky gets it by now, so he doesn’t need confirmation. And if Steve’s going to turn up just to say he doesn’t want to see him, it would really be polite of him to at least _try_ to look crap instead of fuckin’ perfect and radiant like he is now. He looks all soft and warm and Bucky just wants to snuggle into his chest. _Goddammit_ , this is some bullshit right here.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks, and wow aren’t those just the worst three words in the English language when combined like that.

Still, Bucky’s not about to embarrass himself any further by making a scene or a big deal or whinging about how Steve didn’t call him. So fuck it, he’ll let Steve say his piece and then he can go. “Yeah, sure, you want to come up?” Bucky says, and he surprises himself with how together he sounds. _Excellent work_ , he tells himself as he unlocks the door.

“Thanks,” Steve says politely, and he follows him in and up to Bucky’s place.

Bucky doesn’t offer him a drink because while he’s letting this happen, he doesn’t have to be overly generous about it. He pulls off his coat while Steve shuts the door behind them. His arm is killing him. He suddenly decides that seeing as he and Steve are done, maybe he doesn’t give a fuck anymore about Steve seeing him without his prosthesis.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, make yourself at home,” he tells Steve, but the words come out a little cold.

In the bathroom, he pulls off his shirt and then detaches his prosthesis, leaving it on top of his laundry basket, then pulls the shirt on again. It’s a long-sleeved dark blue one and makes his lack of arm even more obvious as the empty sleeve flaps about. Usually he’d pin it, but he really doesn’t care anymore. Steve can just fuckin’ deal with it.

He exits the bathroom to find Steve looking out his window. He hasn’t taken his coat or shoes off, so Bucky knows he was right and Steve’s not going to be staying long. Steve turns around at the sound of Bucky coming back, and Bucky sees his eyes looking at the sleeve, as much as he can also tell that Steve is trying not to. Bucky wants to make a bitter comment, he really does, but he’s going to take the high road here. He’s one classy motherfucker and Steve can suck it. Or not as the case may be. “So, what did you want to talk about?” he prompts so they can get this over with.

“I, um, I have to tell you something,” Steve starts, looking more nervous than Bucky’s ever seen him look before. “I’m really sorry about the other day when I left.”

Bucky looks him right in the eye. “Yeah, that was…abrupt.” Abrupt is the nicest word he can use to describe it.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just…” Steve stops. He runs a hand through his hair, looking troubled. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Bucky looks at him a little suspiciously. This isn’t where he thought Steve was going. Now he’s wondering what Steve’s talking about. Oh god, what if he’s married, is that it? Maybe he’s straight and Bucky was just his gay experiment? Maybe he’s got kids and a wife and a dog and a picket fence and all that stuff and Bucky was just someone to screw and then Steve figured out Bucky wasn’t an easy lay and that’s why—

“My full name is Steven Grant Rogers,” he says, cutting into Bucky’s thoughts.

Bucky frowns. “Umm…okay?” Now he’s wondering why Steve didn’t use his last name. It sort of supports his married with kids theory.

Steve looks at him like he’s a little perplexed. “As in…Steve Rogers,” he says, watching Bucky’s face.

Bucky takes a moment to think about why he’s heard that name and wonders why Steve seems to think it’s weird that he doesn’t know it, and then it clicks. Christ does it click. His eyes widen as he looks at Steve and holy fucking balls, how did he miss that. “Fuck,” he hears himself squeak.

Steve looks so, so uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he says with a small, worried looking tight-lipped smile.

Steve Rogers aka Captain America. He’s in his apartment. He had ice cream with him. Oh dear lord, he kissed him. “You look bigger on TV,” he squawks out.

Steve raises his eyebrows, looking bemused. “Oh yeah? Usually people say the opposite.”

Bucky’s slowly processing. He runs through the last few days in his head. “Oh,” he utters. “That’s why you ran off,” he breathes.

Steve looks completely morose. “Bucky, I am so sorry about what happened to you. I’m so, so sorry. It should never have happened. It’s on us. It’s on _me_. I just…I had to come back and apologise. Not that there’s anything I could ever say to make it right.” He sounds so sincere.

So of course, Bucky laughs in his face. Steve looks taken aback. “Steve, what part of ‘I don’t blame the Avengers’ were you not listening to? I don’t want or need an apology. Unless you somehow transformed yourself into a building and crumbled on top of me, then you had nothing to do with how I got hurt.”

Steve looks touched, but he doesn’t let it go. “You’re so goddamn amazing, Buck, but it’s completely my fault and my responsibility. I should have protected you.”

Bucky’s sort of stuck on the ‘goddamn amazing Buck’ part. He steps forward until there’s only a foot of space between them and then speaks slowly and clearly. “I’m gonna say this one more time. _It wasn’t your fault_.” He enunciates each word, hoping to really drill them into Steve’s head. “You saved the city from freakin’ aliens that day, if not the whole world, and yeah, some people got hurt. Some people died. But a hell of a lot more would have if you hadn’t been there. Fuck, maybe if you weren’t around, those people who got me out might have left me there. You inspire people to do better, be better.” He pauses and gives Steve his best resolved face. “You’re a superhero, yeah. But you’re not omnipotent. You can never save everyone. But I don’t need saving, Steve,” he says firmly.

Steve’s eyes look glassy as he looks back at Bucky. “I…I don’t even know what to say,” he murmurs, staring into Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky reaches out and squeezes Steve’s arm. Damn, that bicep is solid. “Say you believe me. And then tell me if you want Korean or Thai food for dinner?”

Steve looks confused now. “Wait, what? You want me to stay?”

“Well, yeah, unless you came to tell me that and then tell me you didn’t want to see me?” Bucky says, only half joking, because maybe he’s read this wrong and that’s what he _did_ come here to do.

“No, of course not,” Steve says hurriedly. “I just figured you wouldn’t want to see _me_ anymore.”

Bucky frowns at him. “Well, I guess you probably should have told me who you were once you figured out I’m apparently a blind idiot, but I can see why you didn’t. Must be hard knowing if someone wants you for you or for the whole superhero thing.” He really does get that. Honestly, if he’d known from the start, he would have assumed he had no chance in hell anyway, so it wouldn’t have been an issue.

“You’re not an idiot, Buck,” Steve rebukes, reaching out and squeezing Bucky’s right shoulder. “You might just be the kindest person I’ve ever met.” He moves his hand away and looks worried again. “But do you really want to be dating Captain America?” he asks softly, as though he’s scared to ask but feels like he has to.

“No,” Bucky states, and Steve’s face falls. “But I really liked Steve Grant, so I’d be pretty cool with seeing him some more,” he grins with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Are you serious?” Steve says, like he really can’t believe it.

Bucky’s heart glows. Steve still wants to date him. He can see it in his hopeful eyes. Bucky didn’t fuck this up at all. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

Steve looks torn between being happy and worried. “It’s not going to be as easy as just dating Steve.”

Bucky chuckles. “Did you just third person yourself?”

Steve almost rolls his eyes a little. “I mean Cap is a part of me. It’s not all I am, but it’s the part of me most people see.”

Bucky can understand that. He can remember looking at Captain America on TV and seeing an icon, someone to admire, but he always seemed like this figure, someone who represented something more than himself. But Bucky can see that Steve is really just Steve. He’s the sweet guy he was starting to get to know, who gets a little nervous sometimes, and who Bucky feels like he’s already known his whole life. He actually can’t really reconcile that they’re the same guy, not really. He just sees Steve. So he figures he should tell Steve that.

Bucky smiles at that beautiful face that’s marred by worry. “I just see you.”

Steve looks at him with all the warmth of the sun. Bucky feels himself glowing under that gaze. Still, Steve continues. “My work…I do dangerous things, sometimes life-threatening things.”

It’s that which makes Bucky think further. Really think. This is Steve Rogers, the man who was trapped in ice for seventy years and woke up in a completely different time. The man who lost everyone he ever knew and suddenly Bucky is just heartbroken for him. He just hadn’t connected that all in his head until then. “Steve,” he says, the word coming out half-choked, before he pulls Steve to him, wrapping his arm round Steve’s broad shoulder in the strongest hug he can give him. Steve goes pliantly, his arms wrapping round Bucky’s waist. “Steve,” Bucky murmurs against him. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

Steve stiffens as though he didn’t realise until then what the hug was about. Then he relaxes again and smushes Bucky even closer.

Bucky just holds him for a few more moments before he pulls away and puts his hand on Steve’s arm. “I get it,” he says softly, fixing his eyes on Steve’s. “I understand what you’re trying to say, but I’m still in…if you want me, if you want to see where this could go, then I’m here.” Because he does get it. Steve is telling him there are risks—risks of Steve getting hurt, maybe even risks of Bucky getting hurt by proximity—but Bucky’s had enough shit in his life to not be scared away by that. He’s already been hurt, and if he thought about that too much, he’d never leave the house. Plus he also knows that he just doesn’t feel a connection with people usually, not like he has with Steve. So he’s still in. He’s so fucking in.

Steve covers Bucky’s hand with his own. “I honestly thought I’d be saying goodbye to you today,” he says quietly. “I know we hardly know each other, but it was kind of tearing me up.”

“Right there with ya, pal,” Bucky says, because if Steve can be that open and honest, then so can he. He takes a leap. “Do you think maybe you could kiss me now?”

A slow, soft smile appears on Steve’s face, lighting it up the way it does, and then he’s pulling Bucky to him and kissing him so sweetly and Bucky is so relieved he thinks he might pass out. He’s really not sure that he could have survived very well without Steve’s kisses. Not now he knows what they’re like and how they make him feel.

“Thai?” Steve says when he pulls away.

It takes Bucky a second to remember what he’s talking about. He grins happily. “Good choice.”

 

****

 

“So…can I ask you something?”

Steve looks over at him in the middle of eating a forkful of rice. They’re on Bucky’s bed again, sitting cross-legged, surrounded by cartons of food and plates, and they’ve been talking and eating just like on their previous dates, everything coming easily and naturally. Steve even helps serve Bucky and somehow manages to do it in a way that makes it feel completely normal and not embarrassing for him. So of course, Bucky figures now’s the time to address the elephant in the room.

Steve seems to sense what sort of thing he might want to ask him about. “You can ask me anything, Buck,” he replies, and Bucky knows he genuinely means that, even if he looks just a tiny bit worried.

“Do you like it?” Bucky asks, unable to think of a less blunt way to phrase the question. “Being…super?”

Steve looks amused at his choice of the word ‘super’. “Sometimes,” Steve replies simply. “I like that I have the ability to help people or to try and do some good in the world. I’m happy to fight the battles that other people can’t.”

“But?” Bucky prompts, because there’s definitely a ‘but’ in there somewhere.

Steve has a little bit of a sad look in his eyes and he looks down at his food. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like just me. I guess because everyone I know knows me as Cap first and foremost. There’s no one really left who knew me first as Steve.” He looks up at Bucky, his eyes warm. “You don’t make me feel that way though. What you said earlier, about how you just see me? I feel that. I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed around someone in over seventy years,” he admits, with a slightly wary-looking smile.

“Me too,” Bucky smiles, his heart fluttering at Steve’s words. “I mean, not seventy years,” he clarifies. “You’re super old,” he says with a teasing smirk, and Steve huffs, “but I just haven’t really felt like I can be myself with people since the accident, but with you it’s like…” He searches for the right word.

“Natural?” Steve offers cautiously.

Bucky nods. “Yeah.” That’s a good word for it. “It feels like I’ve known you forever,” Bucky adds tentatively.

A beautiful shy smile appears on Steve’s face. “I think so too.”

The air feels heavy with emotion as Bucky feels his face heat up a little under Steve’s gaze. He grins as he looks down, feeling a little giddy that they both seem to be feeling the same thing. He eats another of his dumplings, to give himself a second to calm down, because everything seems so intense right then. He looks back up at Steve when he’s swallowed.

“So…can you bench press a car?” he asks with a teasing grin.

Steve huffs out an amused laugh. “I could bench press you,” he says, poking Bucky in the leg.

Bucky smirks, feeling delighted inside. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Rogers,” he says, chucking a dumpling at him.

Steve manages to catch it in his mouth and then looks at him with a fond little amused smile, as he finishes chewing.

Bucky blinks at his fast reflexes. “Hey,” he says, eyes narrowing, “if your reflexes are that good, how did I ever manage to knock you over when I slipped?”

Steve gives him a little wry smile. “I was distracted,” he tells him, leaning forward a little as though about to tell Bucky a secret. “See, the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen walked past me and I was a bit awestruck,” he says, eyes sparkling, but still with a hint of shyness in them.

Bucky feels his heart pounding at the outright compliment and the fact that Steve even noticed him. It feels pretty unbelievable. “Tom Hardy walked past you?” he says with a straight face.

Steve shakes his head at him, fake exasperated, pressing his lips together. “I don’t know who that is, but I’m certain he’s got nothing on you.”

“Oh, you’d be wrong,” Bucky smirks, his heart dancing in his chest at how easy and perfect this is.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Steve rebukes, leaning forward into Bucky’s space and putting his hand just under his chin. “Have you seen this face?” he murmurs before his lips find Bucky’s.

Bucky melts into it. “Look who’s talking,” he mumbles against Steve’s lips, between kisses.

He can’t believe how this day has ended up. It feels like a dream. Sure, it’s a little crazy to think that he’s dating a bona fide superhero, but it somehow feels even crazier to him that he’s dating someone he really likes and someone he seems to fit with. Bucky’s been around long enough to know that this sort of thing just doesn’t happen to him and he’s resolved to not mess this up. And if it really is a dream, he’s completely happy to never wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a public service announcement...don't watch Hachi unless you want to cry more than you have ever cried at a movie before. Just saying.
> 
> Anyway, let me know your thoughts on this chapter? :D Next chapter is Christmas Eve :)


	7. Christmas Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourself for maximum cuteness in 3...2...1...

Bucky’s flying high over the next two days. He beams at all the customers in the store even though there’s just him and Kurt on duty and it’s tiring work. He hasn’t felt this happy in so long, it’s ridiculous. He keeps telling himself to calm down, because he knows he’s getting ahead of himself and that even though he now knows Steve’s real identity—and Bucky can hardly believe that Steve trusted him with it—he reminds himself they still have only known each other for a really short time. He needs to not let his emotions run away with him. But at the same time, he sort of wants to let them, because he’s never felt this open and excited about someone before. So why not let himself get caught up in it? It’s the most magical time of the year after all, right?

Bucky checks his phone when he’s on his break to find, to his complete joy, that there’s a message from Steve, asking him to call when he has a minute. He put a smiley face on the end though, so Bucky figures it’s nothing bad as he calls back.

“Hi, Buck!” Steve answers, and Bucky feels a little weak at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, what’s up, Stevie?”

“Stevie, huh?” Steve chuckles. “I like it.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief, because the nickname just came out of him. “You call me Buck,” he points out, covering for his own slip.

“Hmm, good point,” Steve muses. “Anyway, are you busy tonight? I know you’re working today, but I thought maybe afterwards…”

Bucky knows he’ll be exhausted by the end of this day, but fuck if he cares when it’s Steve wanting to spend time with him. “I can be free,” he says, grinning to himself. “What did you want to do?”

“I was thinking maybe I could come by your place and cook you dinner? It must be crazy there on Christmas Eve, so I thought you might be tired,” Steve offers.

Wow. Bucky’s touched. Steve’s really thinking of him and wants to take care of him like that. It feels so nice. “That sounds amazing, I’d love that. You any good at cooking?” he asks, smirking to himself, because for whatever reason, he doesn’t picture Steve as being a good cook.

“I’ve been learning,” Steve replies lightly. “Is it totally weird if I ask you if I could go to your place without you? So I could get dinner on so it’s ready for when you get there?”

That sort of sounds like heaven. He can imagine getting home after his long day to find Steve there like some fifties housewife, ready to take care of him. And okay, that’s an archaic picture, but it also feels nice, the idea of coming home to someone. To Steve. Bucky’s suddenly very aware again of how fast his emotions are going, even if his body is taking it slow. Plus the whole Captain America thing is really working in Steve’s favour right now, because if he was just some random guy then no way in hell would Bucky be letting him do that after only a couple of dates, but Steve comes with built-in trustworthiness.

“That sounds really nice,” Bucky tells Steve, trying to not sound emotional down the phone. “Do you want to come and pick up my key from me?” he suggests.

“Is it totally weird if I tell you I can get in without a key?” Steve says hesitantly.

Oh, right. Of course he can. Steve’s got mad skills. “Probably,” Bucky admits. “But go for it. As long as it doesn’t involve actually breaking my door down or something.”

Steve laughs down the phone. “Please. I’m a lot stealthier than that.”

“I’m sure. Well, I’ll probably be back around seven. I expect to be impressed,” he grins to himself.

“Pressure’s on then,” Steve replies, and Bucky can tell he’s smiling. “Is there anything you can’t eat or don’t like?” he adds.

“Nah. The army trains you pretty well not to be picky.” He grimaces, thinking of some of the awful food he’s eaten in his time.

“Okay, prepare to be surprised then.”

“See you later, Stevie,” he smiles down the phone.

“See you later, Buck.”

Bucky hangs up the phone, still smiling to himself. He knows his day will probably drag even longer now—now that he knows Steve’ll be there when he gets back, time will slow right down—but he still can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

 

****

 

The first thing Bucky hears as he starts to open his door is the sound of soft Christmas music playing. It’s the old classic kind, maybe Bing Crosby or one of those sorts of crooners. Then he opens the door, fussing with his scarf as he goes in, and he realises something smells incredible, and then he looks up as he goes to hang up his scarf and freezes.

His apartment looks like a Christmas grotto. There’s tinsel and lights and decorations all over the walls and there are candles lit across the room and there’s a little table setup at the foot of his bed, that isn’t even his table, because he doesn’t have a table, and it’s set with a Christmas tablecloth and Christmas napkins. And right there in front of his bay window is a huge Christmas tree, and from the looks of it, it’s a real one and it’s shining with tiny white lights and covered in baubles of all different colours that sparkle in the light, making the tree look magical. Bucky wonders how it even got through the door, it’s so tall. And then he finally looks to his left, and there’s Steve, in a Christmas apron no less, standing watching him with what looks like a nervous smile on his face.

“You did all this?” Bucky breathes out in wonder. No one’s ever done something like this for him before. He’s a little overwhelmed.

“Do you like it?” Steve asks, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

“It’s incredible,” Bucky replies, finally getting his feet working and heading over to him.

“Wait!” Steve suddenly exclaims, holding his hand up to Bucky. “Stay right there.”

Bucky freezes. “Why? What?” he asks, eyes darting around.

Steve dries his hands on a towel and then walks over until he’s right in front of Bucky and looks up above his head. “Mistletoe,” he murmurs.

Bucky follows his eyes upwards to the ceiling. “Well how did that get there,” he smirks, when really inside he’s thinking _oh my god, Steve is the cutest thing in existence_ and he can’t believe he’s here with him and he did all this, and Bucky’s heart might just explode.

Steve caresses his face and leans in to kiss him softly, almost nervously, as though he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to do this or maybe just can’t believe it, like Bucky can’t. Bucky’s whole body shivers as their lips touch, the tips of his fingers tingling with want, before Steve gently moves away.

“You forgot something though,” Bucky tells him when he can focus again.

“I did?” Steve frowns, moving his hand from Bucky’s face and looking around.

“Top of the tree. Supposed to have a star or angel or something.”

Steve holds up a finger. “Ah, but I didn’t.” He walks over to the closet and pulls out what must be the bag he brought everything in, then returns to Bucky, holding a sparkling silver filigree star in one hand and a perfect glass angel holding a gold heart between its hands in the other. Steve offers them out to him. “It’s your tree so I figured you should choose,” he says with a grin.

Bucky’s too touched to even begin to call Steve a sap as he looks at the objects in Steve’s hands. “I think I gotta go angel,” he decides. “Kinda feel like someone must be looking out for me lately.” He gives Steve a soft smile and Steve leans in and kisses him gently again.

“Angel it is then,” he murmurs, handing it to Bucky.

They walk over to the tree and Bucky realises the tree is too tall for him to reach the top. He’s about to go and grab one of the chairs to stand on, when Steve wraps his arms round Bucky’s waist and hoists him up.

“Hey!” Bucky protests in startled surprise. “Oh you did _not_ just pick me up. I’m a fuckin’ army vet for god’s sake, you don’t get to just pick me up like I’m some damsel or something.”

Steve just laughs. “Just put the angel on top, Buck.”

Bucky grumbles and does as he’s told, and to be honest, knowing Steve can lift him like he’s nothing is sort of a turn on, but he’s not telling Steve that.

Steve places him back on the ground and Bucky turns and hits him in the arm. “You’re a punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve teases. “Why don’t you get changed and relax and dinner’ll be ready soon.”

“Okay,” Bucky says softly, loving being looked after like this. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve tentatively kisses his cheek and heads back to the kitchen. _How it is that a cheek kiss can feel so intimate_ , Bucky thinks, as he watches Steve. He shakes his head and pulls out some comfy sweatpants and a soft red sweater from his dresser cause at least it’s a little festive, and heads to the bathroom. He’s not really at the stage of changing in front of Steve. But as he’s in the bathroom, he realises he’s totally fine being without his prosthesis in front of him, and not for vindictive purposes like last time. He takes it off, and when he’s got his sweater on, he rolls up the arm and pins it up. Then he brushes his teeth and combs through his hair and realises he’d quite like to tie it back, cause honestly, it can be kind of hard to eat and keep his hair out of his face at the same time when he’s only got the one hand to do so.

He exits the bathroom with a hair-tie in his hand, feeling a little nervous. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve says as he looks over at him, and a smile appears on his face.

“Do you think…um, would you mind tying my hair for me?” Bucky manages to get the sentence out. It somehow feels like the most vulnerable sentence he’s ever said.

Steve’s eyes soften. “Yeah, of course,” he says, and he walks over and Bucky passes him the hair-tie. “In that little kinda bun thing you had the other day?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky nods as he turns around, too nervous to really wonder how Steve knows how to tie a little bun thing.

Steve gathers his hair up so gently and carefully, taking his time to get it all and then twists the hair-tie round until it holds tightly enough. “Looks great like this,” he says, placing a soft little kiss just behind Bucky’s ear.

Bucky shivers. “Thanks,” he chokes out as he turns to face Steve, and god, the care Steve took with him, he’s just…

Bucky reaches out and fists the front of Steve’s shirt, pulling him in, and kisses him hard, with so much more intensity than they have before. Steve’s hands find his waist and he moans a little into the kiss and Bucky takes advantage of that moment to slip his tongue in, and then Steve moans again and deepens the kiss too.

A loud beeping noise pulls them out of their haze and Bucky startles.

“Oven timer,” Steve explains, his eyes looking all lust-filled, before he places a sweet kiss on Bucky’s lips and heads back over there.

“What are you making anyway?” Bucky asks as he follows him over, grazing his swollen lips with his own fingertips, remembering the sensations.

Steve opens the oven, getting a face full of hot steam. “I did a full Christmas dinner.”

Bucky’s floored. “Seriously?”

“Well yeah,” Steve replies as he busies himself with pulling roast potatoes out the oven.

Bucky watches him, surprised by just how comfortable Steve seems in his kitchen, easily finding the things he needs as he goes.

“You said you were spending Christmas alone and I wanted you to still have a Christmas dinner,” Steve continues, turning something off on the stove as he lifts the lid on whatever it is. “I know it’s not actually Christmas Day, but I didn’t know if you’d want me to come over tomorrow, so I thought this way you could have all the leftovers ready to go, so you can still have Christmas dinner tomorrow as well.” Steve pulls out a turkey joint from the oven and places it on the stovetop with a clang, already reaching for the cupboard where Bucky keeps his plates.

It takes Bucky a minute to process all that. “You…you wanted to come over tomorrow?”

Steve pauses in what he’s doing as though he just realises what he said and turns to Bucky. “Ah. Um, yeah, I thought about it. Then I realised it would probably be super early and weird of me to ask to spend Christmas with you, so then I forgot about that idea. Except I’ve just told you it anyway,” he says as a realisation, his cheeks turning red.

Bucky’s just _floored_. Steve wants to spend Christmas Day with him? Steve, who he met a grand total of ten days ago, and who’s already proven himself to be ten times the man people already think he is, who brought Christmas into Bucky’s apartment, along with hope…he wants to spend Christmas with him?

“Don’t you have friends you’re having Christmas with? Or the Avengers?” he can’t help asking. Bucky almost laughs as he thinks about that. He’s imagining Hulk sitting at a table, giant hands wrapped around a tiny knife and fork, demanding dinner. _Hulk hungry_.

“A few of them are doing a thing, but honestly, I’d much rather spend it with you,” Steve admits, with a little smile. “But, umm, forget I said anything, okay?” he adds, still blushing. He starts banging around the kitchen again, almost dropping the serving spoons he gets out.

It’s then that Bucky finally realises—maybe Steve is lonely. When he speaks about the Avengers, it sounds more like he considers them to be colleagues rather than friends, and like he said, they see him as Cap first and Steve second, and when he thinks about it, he realises it’s probably unlikely that Steve’s made friends from outside that group.

Bucky approaches him and takes the spoons from his hands and places them down on the counter and then takes Steve’s hand in his as Steve looks at him, looking embarrassed. “Steve, would you please spend Christmas Day with me?” he asks, staring into Steve’s eyes, watching how they brighten. Bucky’s amazed he has the ability to make Steve look like that.

“I…I would love that, Buck,” Steve says, looking a little incredulous.

Bucky smiles and then turns to look at the turkey, letting go of Steve’s hand. “I mean, assuming the food’s any good. Otherwise you’re outta here, pal.”

Steve chuckles. “Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” he says, bumping shoulders with Bucky.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky confirms. “Now tell me where you learnt how to do all this, cause I’m starting to think there’s nothing you can’t do,” he says, and his heart feels full as he helps Steve serve the food and listens to Steve tell him about his mother and her recipes.

And dammit, when they sit down to eat, the food is delicious.

 

****

 

“Are you kidding me with this, Buck?” Steve cracks about two-thirds of the way into the movie. “This is in no way a Christmas film!”

Bucky lifts his head from where he’s been leaning on Steve’s shoulder, having slouched down slowly over the course of the movie, and looks over at him a little sheepishly. “It has snow in it,” he tries.

“You hate snow,” Steve grumbles, wiggling a little on the bed, before settling again. They’re both stuffed full of Steve’s delicious food and Bucky’s a little merry what with the mulled wine he had, that didn’t affect Steve at all, and they’re cosied up on Bucky’s bed watching _Hachi_. Bucky feels slightly guilty because Steve had no clue what he was in for.

By the time the movie nears the end, Steve is distraught. Bucky’s definitely got tears in his eyes and Steve is waving at the screen. “But why…why couldn’t he just let the family love him? _Ten_ years! And why did they give up on him and let him stay there!”

“I know,” Bucky sniffs.

“What exactly did I do to deserve this, Buck?” Steve asks, turning to look at him, his face a picture.

“It’s the saddest movie ever, I just had to share it with you,” Bucky tells him.

Steve shakes his head at him. “You’re lucky I like you,” he mock scowls at him.

Bucky feels his face break into a smile. “I know I am.” He actually can’t believe how incredibly lucky he is. He would wonder why Steve was even interested in him, and he has, except now he knows they both feel that indescribable pull—there’s a chemistry between them that maybe doesn’t make sense, but Bucky feels it so strongly, it doesn’t need to make sense.

Steve’s face goes softer, the frown leaving, before he seems to gather himself and then smirks and nudges Bucky. “You definitely are. I hear I’m hot AF.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, you heard Becca that day?” He should have known, she was so freaking loud.

Steve grins. “Sure did.”

Bucky groans and rolls over to bury his face under his pillow, trying to smother himself.

Steve plucks the pillow from his head and drops it onto the bedspread. “You should thank her. She definitely helped me get the confidence to ask for your number.”

Bucky moves his face to the side to look at Steve, still a little mortified. “How’s that?”

“Well, her suggestion that you um…do a particular thing on my, um, face, sort of helped clue me in to the fact that you might um, swing my way?” Steve says, flushing with a little embarrassment.

“Christ,” Bucky mutters, pulling himself up until he’s sitting upright next to Steve.

Steve squeezes Bucky’s knee for a second. “For the record, I’m definitely the lucky one,” he says with that soft smile of his. It sounds like such a line, but Bucky knows from Steve it’s completely genuine and it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Steve’s eyes must catch sight of the clock on Bucky’s nightstand as he moves his hand and stretches his arms out. “Well now that you’ve emotionally destroyed me, I should probably get going.”

Bucky’s a little too focused on the strip of skin showing at the bottom of Steve’s sweater as it rides up. “Huh?”

Steve grins and leans in to give Bucky a soft chaste kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, shall we say about one?” he suggests.

He starts to clamber off the bed, but Bucky catches his hand and pulls a little, stopping him. “You could stay?” he offers before he thinks his offer through, but then he does and he stands by it. “I want you to stay.”

Steve’s still for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Bucky shrugs like it’s no big deal. “You’re coming back anyway, what’s the point of going home? I mean, unless you have plans in the morning?” he sputters, realising he just assumed Steve’s free.

Steve smiles at his babbling. “I don’t have plans.”

“Well, stay then,” Bucky says, still gripping his hand. “I mean, if you want to?”

Steve nods gently. “Okay. I just need to make a call,” he says, letting go of Bucky’s hand and reaching over for his phone where he left it on the nightstand.

Bucky’s suddenly a lot more nervous. “I’m just gonna go…” He points at the bathroom and gets up from the bed. He spends a couple of moments in there pulling himself together and then pulls his sweater off so he’s in the white t-shirt he had on underneath and his sweats. He can sleep like this, he figures. He hesitates, looking in the mirror for a moment, and then pins the left sleeve together. It’s long enough to cover his stump, but he doesn’t want to risk Steve seeing anything through the arm hole. When that’s done, he gets ready for bed, pulls out his hair-tie, and then heads back in, holding his sweater.

Steve’s been up and about, blowing out candles and getting them a glass of water each. Bucky smiles because Steve’s so thoughtful, even just with little things. “I found a spare toothbrush for you and left it by the sink. Do you want to borrow some PJs or something?”

“Sure,” Steve says easily.

Bucky only has two pairs. He rummages around for them as Steve excuses himself to go to the bathroom. He manages to find them and hopes the slightly bigger pair will fit Steve as he puts his sweater away.

Bucky busies himself making sure the front door is locked, though he absently thinks if anyone was to break in that they’d be the ones way worse off when Steve was done with them.

When Steve comes back into the room, Bucky points out the pyjama bottoms he’s left on the bed. As Steve starts unbuttoning, Bucky pretends to be busy in the kitchen so he has some privacy, all the time feeling like he’s on fire, knowing Steve is basically stripping behind him.

“Um, yeah…they don’t really fit,” Steve says, and Bucky glances over to see Steve’s in dark grey boxer briefs, one leg in his pyjama bottoms which are clearly straining at his thigh.

Bucky swallows hard. Of course they don’t fit. How can one man have _that much_ thigh muscle? “I mean, you’ll probably be plenty warm in just your boxers,” he says as casually as he can. “It stays pretty warm in here, cause it’s the top of the house.”

Steve nods as he pulls the pyjamas off his leg and then pulls off his sweater as well, which leaves him in a white tank.

Bucky sort of had a concept of how built Steve is. He’s felt the muscles in his back when they’ve hugged and he ran his fingers down one of those arms once, and he knows that Steve is a freakin’ supersoldier, but none of that knowing really matters when faced with Steve looking like this right in front of him. He looks like literal perfection and Bucky’s suddenly dying to touch every part of him and taste his skin on his tongue. Christ, if he keeps looking, he’s going to get aroused and his sweatpants will do nothing to hide that. So Bucky coughs and wanders back over to his side of the bed nearer the window, turning off the tree lights and then climbs into bed, pulling the covers over so any situation that arises is hidden.

Steve climbs in on his side and settles down against the pillows. They lie next to each other for a few moments before Steve breaks the silence.

“Bucky?”

“Hmmm?” Bucky hums back.

“I’ve never slept with anyone before.”

Bucky’s mind is about to explode—

“I mean, sleeping-wise. I’ve literally never slept with anyone else before.”

Bucky hears him move and feels eyes on him, so he turns his head to see Steve looking over at him. “Do you snore?” he asks, because he can’t help himself.

Steve shrugs. “How would I know?” he says with a little smile.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you know in the morning,” Bucky grins, the grin turning into a content smile as he looks at Steve longer, his face just visible in the dark room, all the angles highlighted. Even the dark can’t hide his exquisiteness.

“Do you…do you want me to stay over on my side?” Steve asks cautiously.

Bucky looks at his sweet, apprehensive face. “Steve. Are you asking me to snuggle?” he asks, pressing his lips together in amusement, because how can one man both save the world and be this level of adorableness.

“Would the answer be yes?”

Bucky can’t keep the smile from his face now. “It might be.”

Steve grins back. “In that case, yes, I’m definitely asking you to snuggle.”

Bucky’s not really sure how just ten days ago his life changed to this, but he’s amazingly happy that it did. He thought he’d be sleeping alone tonight, waking up alone, and spending the day alone, pretending it wasn’t even Christmas, but apparently the saying that life can turn on a dime is true. Because here he is, in bed with his new…well, not boyfriend, not yet, but his new…Steve, and he turned Bucky’s apartment into its own little wonderland, both with the decorations and with him just being here, and now, _now_ he wants to snuggle. Everything feels just perfect.

Bucky shifts onto his side, moving the pillow under his left shoulder so it’s still comfortable, and then turns his head and reaches back for Steve. Steve shuffles forward until his chest is against Bucky’s back, though Bucky notices he’s very careful not to be touching his ass in any way, and then he tentatively drapes his arm over Bucky’s waist. Bucky rests his hand over Steve’s and he hears Steve let out what sounds like a contented sigh, that sounds exactly how Bucky is feeling. Bucky settles into Steve’s warmth, shutting his eyes, revelling in the feeling of utter bliss at being in Steve’s arms, praying again that this won’t turn out to be a dream when he wakes in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, don't watch Hachi.
> 
> Merry Christmas Eve everyone :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know? See you tomorrow for the final chapter! x


	8. Christmas Day

It takes Bucky a moment to remember. As he wakes up, he has a slight freak out as he registers that there’s someone in bed with him. Then his brain reminds him it’s Steve and he asked him to stay over. It’s Steve, and apparently the careful cuddle they were in when they fell asleep somehow turned into Bucky being fully pressed up against Steve’s entire body with both Steve’s arms wrapped around him tightly, almost as though Bucky was Steve’s large and mostly not squidgy teddy-bear.

The next thing Bucky realises is that while Steve’s right arm is still situated over Bucky’s waist and resting on his stomach, the left has wrapped its way under Bucky’s neck and it means Steve’s bicep is resting on Bucky’s left shoulder. Bucky almost panics as he realises, but he tries to stay still and calm himself down. He must move a little because Steve lets out this little whiny moan and squeezes Bucky even tighter, and his left hand moves up and grabs onto Bucky’s forehead, tucking him back against him. Bucky blinks and waits for Steve to let go but he doesn’t. Bucky supposes at least he’s not touching his shoulder anymore.

As he stops freaking out about his shoulder, he finds another thing to freak out about. His ass is pressed against Steve’s crotch and from the feel of it, Steve has a semi going on.

Bucky doesn’t know what to do. He stays frozen as he tries to think of his options. He could try and pull away a little or he could wake Steve up. But a look at his clock tells him it’s only just after six in the morning and it seems mean to wake Steve, just because of this. Bucky knows he didn’t mean to turn him into his teddy-bear. And honestly, as he lies there longer, he finds he really doesn’t mind it. He should probably try and rectify the lower-half situation, to save them both some embarrassment, but being held like this by Steve is really nice. It’s been so long since he’s had someone hold him.

Bucky shifts his hips slowly forward, trying not to jostle the bed but apparently Steve doesn’t like that because he makes that noise of protest again and pushes his hand on Bucky’s stomach, pulling him back into his crotch. Bucky tries to smother the little “eep” that comes out of him, while his dick is getting very interested in what’s going on, but apparently just his little squeak is loud enough. He feels Steve’s body go tense behind him.

For a moment, both of them seem to lie there frozen. Then Steve gently lets go of Bucky’s head and moves his other hand and starts shuffling backwards.

Bucky shifts round so he can see Steve. “Uh…good morning,” he says as Steve’s eyes widen and he freezes. Steve must have been hoping he was still asleep.

“Hi…” Steve says cautiously.

There’s a moment of silence between them. Then Steve breaks.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to manhandle you like that,” Steve says, his words coming out in one big rush.

“I know. It’s fine,” Bucky says simply, if a little awkwardly.

“I didn’t know I’d get so grabby sleeping with someone,” Steve continues as though he didn’t hear Bucky.

Bucky smiles softly. “It’s really fine, Steve.”

Steve seems to hear him this time. “Okay…umm, I’m just gonna go…” He fumbles to get out of bed and quickly heads to the bathroom.

Bucky lies there waiting for him to come back. He can’t lie to himself, he’s sort of considering shoving his ass back against Steve again when he comes back, because god knows his body wants to, wants to feel Steve’s skin against his and his body pressed close and his weight above him, watching the sweat roll down him as he moves over him, and…oh crap, Bucky needs to stop thinking. Now he’s worked himself up. He yanks at the covers, making sure they are covering him up properly.

His body is raring to go. It’s his brain that’s the problem. He’s terrified of getting close like that with someone. He’d have to be naked with Steve. He’d see his stump and the scarring and even if Steve didn’t care, Bucky does. In fact, Steve will probably look and start blaming himself again and that’s just not the feeling you want when you’re naked with someone.

Bucky stops thinking when Steve comes back into the room. Even in the dark, Bucky can see the outline of his arms and thighs and oh god, this is torture. What the hell was he thinking, having Steve stay in his bed.

Steve climbs back into bed, lying on his back, obviously embarrassed and not planning to cuddle Bucky again. Bucky decides to forget about thoughts of being naked. He can panic about that later. Right now, he can just be happy being squished against Steve, because he’s suddenly realised that maybe it’s been a long time since Steve has had any physical comfort like this too. So he moves, feeling a little tentative, until he’s close enough to Steve. Steve hasn’t moved, maybe wondering what Bucky’s doing. Bucky shifts again until his head is resting on Steve’s shoulder. Yeah, he’s definitely not ready for nakedness because this is sort of making his heart jump, just waiting to see what Steve will do, but then Steve moves a little as well and leans his head onto Bucky’s and Bucky lets out a small sigh of relief.

Bucky thinks they both doze for a while after that. He’s not completely asleep and he’s fairly sure Steve isn’t either but neither of them move, they just stay like that, content.

Bucky’s not sure how long it’s been when Steve whispers his name.

“Hmmm,” Bucky murmurs, still in that nice warm place between sleeping and being awake.

“Your phone is glowing,” Steve says, and Bucky yawns and turns lazily to reach for it. He put it on silent. He looks to see it’s Becca calling him. It’s only just after seven-fifteen so this is clearly her ongoing punishment for him not going home with her. It’ll be worse if he doesn’t pick up.

Bucky groans and accepts the call before realising that she’s facetiming him and then quickly makes sure Steve’s not in the frame. Steve, bless his soul, shifts over a little so he’s not as close to him.

“Becs, c’mon, it’s too early,” he complains, shifting a bit so he’s more upright against the pillows.

“Oh, were you sleeping?” she smirks at him. “Merry Christmas!” she yells loudly.

“Oh god,” Bucky groans. “Merry Christmas, Becs. Please show me mercy and don’t put mom and dad on,” he implores her. He’ll call them later at some point himself.

Becca huffs at him. “I won’t. I’m not _that_ evil.” She pauses for a second and her eyes narrow. “What is that behind you? Is that tinsel?”

Bucky turns his head. He forgot Steve put tinsel along his headboard. “Uh, yeah,” he admits.

“You decorated? Oh! Did you ever get that second date with Steve?” She looks really excited as she switches topic.

Bucky feels himself blushing a little. He looks over at Steve who’s looking a little sheepish and then quietly climbs out of bed, heading to the kitchen, clearly attempting to give Bucky a little privacy in his tiny apartment.

“Umm, yeah, actually,” Bucky says quietly. “It went well.”

“Why didn’t you call me then? You were supposed to call me,” she demands. “Oh…did it go so well that it became inappropriate brother-sister conversation?”

“No,” Bucky says quickly, glancing over at Steve, who appears to be making coffee. Bucky should probably try and wrap this up quickly, because while he’s talking quietly, Becca is not.

“Bucky,” she says firmly, frowning on the screen, and Bucky knows he’s about to get a lecture. “Did you really go out again or are you just pretending to make me worry less?”

Bucky rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, we went out. A couple of times actually.”

“Is he nice to you?”

Bucky drops his voice even quieter. “Yes. He’s great.”

“Why are you whispering?” Becca says loudly.

“I’m not,” Bucky hisses.

She narrows her eyes. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m just tired. _Someone_ woke me up at an ungodly hour.” Bucky yawns for effect.

“Okay, fine, that was kinda mean of me. You go sleep again but call mom and dad later or it’s all I’ll hear about.” She rolls her eyes at him.

“I promise,” Bucky promises. “Merry Christmas.”

She waves at him and finally disconnects, and Bucky lets out a sigh of relief. It’s not that he would really mind if she knew Steve was here, but he knows she’d go over the top with questions and think more had happened and Steve would hear it all. It’s better to tell her later, when he next sees her in person.

Steve pads back on over when he sees Bucky is off the phone. “I made coffee,” he says, passing Bucky his.

God, those arms are just immense, flexing as one passes him a mug. “Thanks. Sorry about that. I didn’t think she’d call so early,” Bucky apologises, trying very hard not to stare.

Steve just smiles. “You guys seem really close.” He climbs back into bed, leaning against the headboard like Bucky is.

“Eh, too close probably,” Bucky jokes. “She’s a pain in the ass.” He pauses for a second and wonders if Steve is bothered that he didn’t introduce them. “Um, I would have had her say hi to you, but I didn’t know if you wanted to and she would have probably gone nuts seeing you here today.”

Steve lets out a little chuckle. “It’s fine. It’s probably better that I meet your sister when I’m not half-dressed in your bed.”

Bucky blinks at him. There’s so much for his head to unpack in that sentence, like it sounds like Steve at some point wants to meet Becca, which makes it sound like he’s planning on sticking around, which maybe means he sees this becoming the sort of relationship where you meet each other’s families. Except Steve doesn’t have a family for Bucky to meet. Maybe he’ll take him to meet the Avengers? No. No. Nope. That sounds terrible. Bucky surrounded by superheroes? Nope, not going to happen. Maybe he and Steve can just stay in their own bubble and forget about all that? That’s a good point though—Steve is kind of famous. Bucky’s dating a famous person. What if people take pictures of them when they go out? Do people even know that Captain America likes guys? Bucky didn’t. What if—

“You know, I’m starting to be able to tell when you’re thinking really hard,” Steve comments, pulling Bucky from his thoughts.

_Right. Steve. Focus on Steve_. Half-dressed Steve, in his bed. “Sorry,” Bucky says with a little grimace. “Sometimes my head runs away with me. I think too much.” He does. He sometimes wonders if he has some sort of anxiety disorder. He tries to focus on the present again. He and Steve can talk about all that stuff some other time, when or if the time comes and they need to. They might not even get there. That thought makes Bucky’s heart hurt though.

Steve smiles softly at him and reaches to put his coffee down. “People sometimes think that I act before I think.”

“Well, I guess we make a good pair then,” Bucky smiles back, even though he’s certain that’s not true because Steve is known as one of the greatest tactical minds of his time. But maybe that’s just when it’s his work? Maybe in his personal life he’s more impulsive?

“I guess so,” Steve agrees softly. “Oh, by the way…Merry Christmas!” He beams at Bucky.

Bucky laughs at his enthusiasm. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

Steve gets up from the bed and wanders over towards the window and switches on the tree lights. It lights up the still mostly dark room and it looks magical. Steve’s ass in his boxers also looks pretty damn magical as he walks over to the closet by the door.

Bucky wonders what he’s doing but then he’s coming back over, and he’s got a wrapped box in his hands. He sits back on the bed, but facing Bucky this time, one leg underneath him, one dangling over the edge.

“You got me a present?” Bucky’s shocked. He didn’t get Steve anything. He didn’t think. Oh god, he’s the worst…not boyfriend ever.

“It’s just something little,” Steve smiles, handing it to him, after Bucky reaches to put his coffee down.

Bucky looks at the gift in his hand. “Should I open it?” he asks stupidly.

Steve’s eyes sparkle with amusement, reflecting the Christmas tree lights. “That’s usually what people do with presents.”

Bucky wedges the box between his thighs and carefully tears the paper off to find a small cardboard box, which he opens to discover a snow globe. It’s of New York, with all the famous buildings in miniature, but it looks elegant rather than tacky, the buildings created with wire twisted in an artful way. Bucky shakes it up and watches the white snow fall down.

“It reminded me of when we met,” Steve says, and Bucky feels him watching him.

Bucky looks up at him. “It’s beautiful…thank you.” It’s only a little gift but it feels like the best thing he’s ever gotten. He crawls up onto his knees and shuffles nearer to Steve to give him a hug.

Steve holds him back tightly and breathes in deeply and Bucky thinks Steve’s hugs might just be the best thing in the world, they are so comforting.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Bucky admits as he pulls back, feeling guilty.

Steve chuckles. “Sure you did. You asked me to stay. I haven’t had a proper Christmas in…” He pauses. “…Well, in a really long time. I’m really happy I get to spend it with you.”

“But I didn’t even do anything,” Bucky argues back. “You did all this,” he says, looking around in wonder still.

“And it made you light up, so it was totally worth it,” Steve beams.

Bucky can’t really resist him when he says things like that. He leans in and presses his lips gently against Steve’s.

Steve’s still smiling when he pulls back. “See…that’s all the present I need,” he jokes.

“Well then, I’ll have to make it a really good present,” Bucky murmurs back before he can stop himself, and then kisses Steve again, wrapping his arm around his neck.

Steve’s hand goes into his hair, softly stroking through it and he lets out a little moan as Bucky kisses him more fiercely. Bucky’s pretty sure he could die in these kisses. His whole body responds to them like nothing else and his heart is just soaring. As Steve kisses him back just as fiercely, Bucky wants to be even closer, so he finds himself climbing into Steve’s lap, his knees on either side of Steve’s thighs, and that gets another moan out of Steve, and then Steve’s hands find their way to rest on Bucky’s hips as Steve licks into his mouth.

It’s the moment when Bucky sinks down a little further and brushes up against Steve’s hard length that pulls him out of his lust haze. Steve makes this tortured little noise and shifts like he’s aware that they’ve gone too far, and Bucky shifts backwards, breaking the kiss, his lips kiss-bitten and tingling, his body feeling hot, arousal coursing through him.

“Sorry,” Bucky murmurs as Steve opens his eyes and he sees just how dark they are, pupils blown wide.

“That was one hell of a present,” Steve replies, staring at Bucky like he’s the most wonderous thing he’s ever seen.

Bucky feels a little bad, having worked them both up like that. He wonders if maybe he should explain that he needs more time before they take things up a notch. He wouldn’t blame Steve for wanting more. Bucky did, after all, invite him to stay the night in his bed with him. He couldn’t blame Steve if he thought that meant things might go further. Oh god, is he a total tease, leading Steve on and then—

Steve kisses him on the nose. Bucky blinks as his thoughts crumble away.

“Thinking too hard again?” Steve questions with a warm smile.

“Something like that,” Bucky admits.

“How about I make us breakfast and then maybe we can watch an actual Christmas movie, that doesn’t involve breaking my heart and a dog with better acting skills than people?” Steve suggests, tucking a bit of Bucky’s hair back behind his ear.

Bucky grins, because just like that, Steve has diffused the tension Bucky was feeling, because of course he’s a perfect gentleman and apparently one of his superpowers is being psychic, because once again he’s reading Bucky so well. “Sounds good, except I’m helping you make breakfast,” Bucky says firmly. He can’t just let Steve do everything.

“Okay,” Steve says easily as Bucky climbs off him. “Do you have any Christmas breakfast traditions?” He finds his jeans on one of the chairs near the table and pulls them on as Bucky gets off the bed.

“Honestly? I usually just eat whatever candy I’m given as presents,” Bucky grins, as he smooths his hair down with his hand.

Steve shakes his head at him. “I’m horrified,” he jokes. “How about French toast?”

“You’re a genius,” Bucky beams as they both head into the kitchen, and he’s swooning in his head at how nice this is, just pottering around the kitchen, making breakfast with his non-boyfriend. “Do you have any Christmas traditions?” Bucky asks as he gets out the eggs.

“Not really,” Steve replies as he gets out a pan. “My ma used to knit me a new sweater every year and she’d cook something nice, whatever we could afford that year, but it was pretty different then. Christmas is pretty commercial now.” He looks a little lost in thought as he gets out the bread.

“Must have been a pretty big culture shock?” Bucky murmurs. He can’t really imagine it, though he knows all about adjusting to a new reality.

Steve shrugs and places down a bowl for the eggs on the counter. “It was, but it wasn’t as bad as people seem to think. I’m pretty adaptable. It’s the people I miss most.”

He says it easily, but Bucky can feel the pain behind it.

“Peggy’s still alive,” Steve continues, starting on cracking the eggs. “I go and see her sometimes, but sometimes she doesn’t really know it’s me.”

Peggy Carter. Right. Bucky knows a little bit about her, enough to know that they were rumoured to be involved. Fuck, he can’t even imagine how hard it must be to see that she had a whole life and aged while Steve stayed the same. “I’m so sorry. You’ve got people taking care of you, right?” Bucky blurts before he can stop himself.

Steve looks over at him with a little smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m doing alright. It’s been a while now.”

Bucky frowns. That’s not a yes. If he thinks about it, he bets Steve is the suffer in silence type. A little bit like him, except he has a sister who refuses to let him, whereas Steve probably doesn’t have anyone like that. “Well, it’s been a while since my arm, but I still have bad days sometimes,” Bucky admits, opening up. “So if you ever have bad days and want to talk to someone…” he trails off, letting the offer hang in the air.

Steve glances at him. “Back at you,” he says with a little smile, as he starts beating the eggs.

Bucky smiles back and starts helping coat the bread with the egg mixture and he and Steve work together fixing a giant pile of French toast, because Bucky has already learnt that Steve eats a lot. They eat in the kitchen, leaning on the counter, Bucky telling Steve stories about Christmas with his family and Steve chipping in now and then with a few stories of his own. It’s perfect and easy and Bucky loses count of the number of times he smiles or laughs. It’s got to be more times in one day than in the whole of the last month.

The rest of the morning plays out in much the same way, with Bucky in a state of utter contentment. He puts on _White Christmas_ , because he figures Steve might like a classic oldy, which Steve quickly figures out and then mercilessly teases Bucky for, pulling out his best forties lines and accent. They sit, shoulders pressed together on his bed while the movie plays and Bucky is still having trouble processing that this is his life right now. It’s just so weird how quickly everything has happened, but it feels so right.

“Hey, Steve?” he says, without really thinking.

“Yeah, doll?” Steve grins back. He’s been calling Bucky all manner of things for a while now, anytime they speak.

Bucky rolls his eyes and fixes Steve with an unimpressed stare.

Steve chuckles as he looks over at him. “Don’t like that one huh?” He frowns as though he’s thinking really hard and turns to face Bucky. “How about this one…” He gets this little flirty look in his eyes. “Hey sugar, are you rationed?” he almost purrs.

Bucky rolls his eyes again, even though that look Steve is giving him is doing something to him. “What does that even mean?”

“It means do you have some other guy, or would you be mine?”

Bucky thinks Steve probably meant to just be explaining, but he sounds so sincere and he’s looking at Bucky with these wide, honest eyes and Bucky’s heart is sort of leaping into his throat. “I ain’t rationed,” he manages to mumble back, trying to keep up with their teasing.

“Good to know,” Steve says softly. “Cause I’m stuck on you.”

Bucky gets stuck looking at him again. “I, um, I forgot what I was going to say,” he mumbles.

Steve gives him this fond look. “Do you think I could maybe have some more of my present?” he asks with a little smile, his eyes sparkling.

Bucky frowns in confusion. “What present?”

Steve just smiles, touching his fingers to his own bottom lip as his eyes wander over Bucky’s face as though he’s waiting for Bucky to figure it out.

“Oh,” Bucky utters when he realises, and then Steve looks a little shy. Bucky bites his lower lip and then moves his head closer until he can press his lips against Steve’s. He can feel Steve smiling against him, as he reaches up to touch Bucky’s jaw.

Bucky will never get enough of this. Steve’s lips fit against his perfectly and they’re so soft and they make every inch of him tingle. Steve breaks the kiss, but moves to press little kisses against Bucky’s jaw, right near where his fingers are holding his face.

“I swear…this face…” Steve murmurs against his skin.

“What?” Bucky laughs nervously, his skin on fire from Steve’s kisses and touches.

“You’re just stunning,” Steve tells him, finding his lips again.

Bucky thinks he could cry. It’s a startling thought, but no one has said things like that to him in a long time. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever said that in the unequivocal way Steve is. Steve deepens the kiss, pulling Bucky even closer, the kiss turning more passionate every second.

Bucky forces himself to gently pull away from Steve. “Um, I really like this,” he starts, nervous as hell. “But is it cool with you if everything else is sorta off the table for now?”

“Of course,” Steve says quickly, a little frown appearing. “Oh god, was I pushing you? I didn’t mean—”

“No, god no,” Bucky cuts him off, feeling a little tension leave him. “I just…I guess I really like you and I don’t want you to think I don’t, if I don’t take things to the next level yet.”

“I really like you too,” Steve smiles, his eyes lighting up, like that’s the only part he heard. “And I would never think that. This is kinda new for me too,” he adds. “I mean, not being with a guy, I’ve done that…though people seem to like the idea that I’m some kind of pure virgin or something, but…I mean…” He looks embarrassed as he realises what he’s saying. “I just mean, it’s kinda new, the whole relationship thing,” he continues and then his eyes bug out again as he just realises again what he’s said. “Not that we’re there yet,” he blurts. “Not that I don’t want to be,” he adds, while Bucky can’t keep the amused look from his face anymore. “Fuck,” Steve gives up, hanging his head into his hands.

Bucky grins and chuckles a little. Steve’s panic is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Plus he’s kinda glad that it’s not just him worrying in that way. He swings his leg over to straddle Steve in a bold move that has Steve lifting his head from his hands and gazing up at him. “Thanks,” he smiles at Steve.

“For what?” Steve asks, running his hand into Bucky’s hair and pushing it back from his face.

“That’s what I was going to say. Thanks. For spending Christmas with me. This is really nice.” Bucky can’t remember a more perfect day.

“Well I sorta invited myself…” Steve says sheepishly. “But I’m glad you don’t mind.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. Yeah, he doesn’t mind. He’s not completely enamoured with Steve or anything. Steve is so perfectly beautiful when he gets all shy, Bucky can’t even believe it. “Want some more present?” he offers with a little crooked smile.

Steve visibly relaxes and leans up, nodding his head. “Mmmhmm,” he murmurs. “Though I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve a gift this good,” Steve adds, before capturing Bucky’s lips in a sweet kiss.

“You’re a real smooth talker, Rogers,” Bucky murmurs between kisses.

They get themselves just a little worked up again, Steve’s hands running down Bucky’s back, before Steve, perfect gentleman that he is, pulls away, gently running his hand down the side of Bucky’s face. “You gonna help me bake some cookies?” he grins at Bucky.

“Cookies?” Bucky repeats, surprised at the random question.

“Yep. And we can put on the food for dinner too,” Steve continues, and it’s only then that Bucky realises the movie stopped a while ago and Steve’s kisses distracted him so much that he didn’t realise it was almost lunchtime.

They spend the next hour making cookies, just basic chocolate chip rather than the Christmas variety, and then stuffing themselves full of leftovers from their Christmas Eve dinner. Bucky can’t stop smiling at Steve across the table as he smiles and laughs and just looks so at home there already, and then something out the window catches Bucky’s eye.

“It’s snowing again,” he comments, pointing with his fork.

Steve grins and turns in his chair to look, then gets up, holding out his hand to Bucky to make him walk over to the window with him, abandoning dinner for a moment.

“It looks magical,” Steve comments, still holding Bucky’s hand as they stand next to the tree and watch the snow fall onto the empty street below.

Everything seems tranquil and silent, like a perfect winter moment where the world stands still. The snow starts to cover everything and to Bucky it looks like a fresh start, like a new blank canvas, for a new beginning.

Bucky squeezes Steve’s hand and turns his head to look at him, overwhelmed by the emotions he’s feeling for the man next to him. “Stevie?” he says, and Steve turns his head to look at him. “I’m really glad I fell on you,” Bucky tells him, looking into those kind blue eyes.

Steve gives him that sunshine smile, squeezing his hand back. “I’m really glad I caught you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🌲 MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS GUYS! 🌲
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely day, whatever you're doing. I have boring family coming so brighten my day with comments? Though I know some of you will probs be very busy, so drop me one in a few days maybe? 😇 I really hope you like the end chapter!
> 
> And if you did like this fic, I have another Christmas gift for you, cause I'm writing a sequel! Yeah, I couldn't let these two go. It's already longer than this fic, but I probs won't be ready to start posting it for a couple of months, cause I want it to be awesome. I've also got my big bang stucky AU fic coming sometime in Feb/Mar so look out for that 😁 I'm also moving in the new year so I'll prob have less time to write for bit, but hope to see you guys again soon.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, kudosing and commenting! You guys are the best, kindest people ever. Merry Christmas again!


End file.
